The Ties That Bind
by Jillian1
Summary: After one night, Scully and Mulder part ways for 3 years. Scully questions her new life without Mulder when he calls to ask for her help, and after they speak she begins to wonder where she belongs, but someone else seems to decide for her. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

TITLE: The Ties That Bind

AUTHOR: Jillian

DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just notify me via email. I'll submit to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.

RATING: PG-13 for strong language, violence, and sexual themes. (sounds fun, huh?)

KEYWORDS: MSR; Scully/Other relationship.

CATEGORY: Alternate Universe

SPOILERS: Anything through Orison is fair game.

SUMMARY: (AU) After one night in DC, Scully and Mulder part ways for three full years. Scully questions her new life without Mulder when he calls to ask for her help, and after they speak, her new life begins to unravel. A long story of betrayal, heartache, conspiracy, and romance that I don't want to give away in a summary.

DISCLAIMER: They're mine, all mine! Oh wait, we're talking about Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunmen, Skinman, Krycek, Old Smokey, and any other recognizable characters? Well, they're not mine--unless of course Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX would like to give me them. No? All right. Oh, and I'm not making any money off of them, either. Unless you'd like to mail me a check. No? It was worth a shot, huh? I also do not own any quoted song lyrics. They belong to an assortment of people who have influenced my story and sometimes even my life, including but not limited to, Bruce Springsteen, Bowling for Soup, Jimmy Eat World, Sublime, etc. The title of the story is also the title of a Springsteen song.

NOTES: This is my first endeavor into a long story based in an Alternate Universe kinda thing. When I started this, there was a song quote I wanted to include. And then another one, and another one. So finally, I decided to put a song quote at the start of every chapter. So that explains that.

THANKS: To Agent Balinski, for her time and feedback, and friendship. To Erin, aka Tefla, for her excellent beta job. Any remaining errors are mine.

**PROLOGUE**

"Now you're half way around the world,  
And I'm just a day behind.  
Nothing seems to fill the hole that I have since you left my side."  
--Bowling for Soup, "Belgium" 

I was sitting in my office when the phone at my desk beeped. It was after patient hours, so I was surprised when I heard it. Tiredly I leaned over the desk to pick up the receiver and offered it a pathetic, "Hello?"

"Doctor Scully, it's Emma, there's someone on the line for you, he says it's important. His name is Fox Mulder," my assistant at the front desk said.

Fox Mulder. A name I hadn't heard in what felt like ages.

"Um, put him through, please," I said, not knowing why I wanted to talk to him again.

"Sure," she said.

There was a click and I said, "Doctor Scully."

"Scully? It's me," he said, just like old times.

"It's been quite a while for you to identify yourself as 'me', hasn't it, Mulder?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's been a long time. How are you doing?" he asked.

"Fine, Mulder, fine. How'd you get this number?" I asked, my tone in between curious and annoyed. I didn't want to talk to him. I couldn't. Not after what had happened.

"Phone book. I'm, uh, going to be here in San Diego for a while and I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat sometime," he said.

I ran my finger along the engagement ring I wore and said, "A lot has changed since I left, Mulder."

"I know it has, Scully, believe me. I just, I need to talk to you. I need to see you about something, it's important. I'm sorry things ended between us the way they did--" 

"Well you didn't give me much of a choice," I said.

"I'm sorry. I truly am, but I need to see you. It's important. It's about the X-Files."

"Isn't that what it was always about?"

"Please don't tell me you're not going to see me because you're going to hold a grudge. I made a mistake that night, Scully, out on the beach. I made a mistake and I've paid for it every day since then," he offered, his voice quiet.

"Fine, Mulder, I'll meet with you," I found myself saying. "Do you know where the restaurant Sandy's is? Right in the middle of the tourist strip?"

"Yeah, I'll find it. Friday night, seven o'clock?" He asked.

"Okay," I replied.

"Thanks, Scully," he said.

"Yeah, um, I have to go," I told him.

"Okay. See you then," he replied.

"Yeah, bye."

I sat in my office collecting my thoughts for a moment. I held my breath for a few moments, not realizing it, and slowly exhaled. Mulder wanted to see me. It was about the X-Files, which evoked mixed feelings from me. Part of me wanted him to just want to see me, but things had never been like that. Another part of me wanted to help him; the X-Files had been a major part of my life before I left him. There were answers there that I'd never found. There were things that I needed to know...

Searching for those answers was what kept us apart... I still remember every moment of our last few days together.


	2. Chapter One

****

CHAPTER ONE

"We once walked out on the beach and once I almost touched your hand.  
Oh, how I dreamed to finally say such things, then only to pretend."  
--Jimmy Eat World, "If You Don't, Don't"

It was a few days after the Donnie Pfaster case, when he had escaped from prison. I'd been in pretty bad shape; I felt as if I had murdered Pfaster in cold blood. I hadn't shot him in self-defense, I hadn't needed to kill him... Of course, all of this is in the past now, but back then, it had only been a few days. I was staying at Mulder's place until mine was back in order.

I had been pretty much back on my feet when it happened. It wasn't like he took advantage of me, I wanted it more than anything. I had just gotten back from church, and we were just sitting on his couch together. He pulled me near him, and kind of held me a bit. I normally would have questioned it, but I knew we were both shaken up at the thoughts of losing ourselves or one another.

"We keep coming so close, Scully, when I checked my messages...when I realized... God, I was terrified. I thought maybe it was too late. I thought maybe I had lost you," he told me.

"You didn't. I'm here. I'm fine," I told him.

"Yeah, you are. We're lucky. I'm sorry, Scully. I should have known he'd come for you." he said.

"Mulder, it's not your fault."

"I just got so scared that he had..."

"He didn't," I whispered.

"We're lucky," he repeated.

Then his eyes met mine, and he brought his hand up to caress my cheek. He'd done this before in tender moments, and I felt an involuntary shiver run through my body. Things between us had been different lately. We'd become the best of friends over the past few years, but something else had happened, too. I fell in love with my partner, head over heels. We had kissed on New Years Eve, giving me this hope that things would go somewhere. That evening, he had stopped back at my place for some champagne, but left before anything developed.

"You forget how much someone means to you until they're almost gone..." he trailed off, speaking a lesson I would soon learn myself. "I felt responsible, Scully, I felt like it was my fault for leaving the case unresolved. I had just wanted to get away from him, it hadn't occurred to me he'd follow after us, but it should have. I'm a profiler, for Christ's sake!"

"Mulder, it isn't your fault. You know that. Besides..." I took his hand tightly in mine, "I'm still here. I'm here."

And then he kissed me, but not like New Years Eve. His kiss was hungry and passionate, pulling my small frame closer to him. He was afraid to let go of me, afraid to lose me, and I let him cling on to me. The kiss turned needy, and suddenly his hands were everywhere, and mine were on him, and the next thing I knew he was leading me into his bedroom, to fall down onto his newfound bed.

I often think about that walk to his bedroom. He offered me a small smile, and took my hand in his. His hand was so big, and warm, encasing mine. I felt safe. I felt like I was living in a dream, and looking back, I was living in a dream. He said nothing, but that walk to his bedroom--just a few feet--seemed to last forever. The spot where we were in limbo, between the world where we were partners, and the one where we would become lovers. There was nothing but our hands clasped together, the way his hair was mussed, the way the first button of my blouse was undone, and the way our lips were swollen from kissing. Then there was the way the bedroom door shut behind us.

Everything beyond that was a passionate blur of pleasure and bliss. In the moment, everything was so perfect, but in retrospect... I remember telling him, in between soft sighs, that I loved him. With all that was going on, it wasn't until days later that I realized he'd never returned the words. He said other things, that he wouldn't put me in danger ever again, that I was his only constant in a world of uncertainty, that I was beautiful, I was perfect, but never that he loved me. He said he was sorry for hurting me. He said he never meant to. In that moment, it didn't matter. I gave all of myself to him--not just my body, but my heart and soul--without realizing that he hadn't given me all of that.

I woke up beside him in the morning, and he quickly emerged from bed and dressed. He didn't look at me as I threw on my robe, almost as if he was embarrassed to see me naked. It was strange, and we shared a quick, awkward breakfast before I decided that maybe we needed a little time. I left his apartment without kissing him goodbye, without hearing any words of affection from him.

He didn't call me that day, nor did he call the next one. When I called him, he was always "busy". I tried to make plans with him to no avail, and only saw him in the office. When I tried briefly to ask if something was wrong, he denied it and said he "had a lot on his mind." I was slowly going mad.

Before I knew it, four days had passed and we were going off on a case together. It was a story of alien abduction in Florida. The plane ride was characterized by small talk and no important or eventful information. There was no mention of what had happened between us. At that point, part of me began to panic. There was part of me that laughed at my stupidity, taunted me. Told me that I'd ruined everything by sleeping with my best friend. How would he think of me as his partner after that night? Every time we were in the field, would he see Agent Scully, or the naked Dana Scully beside him in bed?

There was something that bothered me more then that. Why did it seem like he didn't want us to ever be together like that again? All I wanted from the moment I left his apartment was to be in his arms again, but he wouldn't even look at me for longer than a few seconds. Every time I caught his gaze, he seemed lost in thought. Thought he wasn't sharing with me. Worried thoughts.

The case was a waste of time. It was just like so many others. We ran around, thinking we were getting close to some form of proof, only to realize it was nothing of the sort. It turned out that the kids were being taken by a disturbed teenager in their school, after they met him at a rave party. He fit the profile for a teenage killer: white male, sixteen years old, loner, played too many video games, and had a lot of small pets that mysteriously disappeared. Probably wet the bed, too.

That wasn't what mattered, though. The case was over, and we were leaving in the morning. We had a nice hotel, for a change, since we were in a tourist area. It was just a few blocks from the beach, and all I wanted was to talk to Mulder about what had happened. Well, that was what I needed to do. What I really wanted to do was to go over to his hotel room and kiss him. Tell him that this was right... That we should be together like this.

"We need to talk, Mulder," I said, having walked into his room uninvited and unannounced.

"Yeah, Scully, we do," he replied simply, looking up from where he lay on his bed, watching television.

"Let's go for a walk," I suggested, not wanting to talk about it in the hotel room. Maybe some fresh air would make me feel better.

"Okay," he said.

There was nothing but silence as we left the hotel. We began walking in the direction of the beach, and I could smell the salt of the sea, heavy in the air. I love the beach, the water, the sea... I grew up by the sea, due to my father's profession. In a way it reminded me of him... In another way it reminded me of carefree childhood days spent with my family... In yet another way it reminded me of late night make-out sessions with Marcus while I lived in San Diego, the waves crashing behind us and me thinking about how if my father happened to walk the dog on the beach he'd kill me and Marcus... In another way it reminds me of life without Mulder, after him. With someone else.

For a long time after, all the beach reminded me of was that night with Mulder.

We walked along the streets toward the beach, but he said nothing. Once in a while I would look to him, but he'd look away. I had this urge to grab his hand, simply hold it, but I couldn't. I wouldn't let myself... I had this sinking sensation that he'd let go. That he wouldn't grasp my hand in his own, that he'd drop it and it'd fall back to my side. That I'd feel like an even bigger fool, beyond the fool I felt like at that moment. A fool for loving him, or a fool for doing something about it? I wasn't sure. I think I'm still not sure. All I knew was that it seemed as if watching my hand fall to my side alone would kill me. I'm still not sure how I survived that night on the beach.

The beach opened up before us, and I slid my sandals off my feet at the entrance. Mulder kept his sneakers on, and we kept walking. The point of the walk was to talk, but we hadn't done anything of the sort. We were in the middle of the beach when I finally just stopped walking. I couldn't keep going, I couldn't keep pretending that nothing was wrong.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything at all. I moved towards him, and finally decided that it was now or never. I had to know. My hand reached out to find his, and his hand moved towards mine. They almost brushed, and he suddenly recoiled back away from me. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Slowly, I put my hand on his cheek, tears in my eyes. I moved slowly forward, to kiss him. I wanted things to be better.

He shook his head a bit, and I dropped my hand. He didn't want me to kiss him? I couldn't understand it, I couldn't handle it. My whole world shattered in that instant. What was it? What had changed his mind? Why didn't he want me anymore? He never wanted to hurt me. He told me that...

"Mulder," I began, "why are you doing this to me?" My voice was steadier than I thought it would be.

"I can't, Scully, I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I can't give you all of me, and you don't deserve just part of my heart. I can't be everything that you need."

"What do you mean, Mulder? What do you mean you can't give me all of you?" I said, anger in my voice.

"I told you in the beginning, Scully, our first case on the X-Files. Nothing else matters to me. I can't be with you when I still have the burden of all the things I'm looking for on my back. Nothing else matters, and it wouldn't be fair to you... You deserve so much better..." God, I thought things had changed since then...

"Oh, but what you could give me, just part of your heart, was fine the other night? Was THAT fair, Mulder? How could you lead me on like this?"

My anger and hurt was growing with every word we exchanged.

"Scully, it's not that I don't care about you, I do, but I, I have answers to find. I don't have it in me to be what you need. You deserve so much better, and all I can give you is pain. It's all I've ever given to you. For me to keep this going would only be selfish. You'd only end up hurt. That's been our entire partnership together, Scully. Me hurting you."

"So you thought you could just use me, while I was in love with you, even though you didn't feel the same way? Even though you knew it would never last, you thought that it could be some one night fling, and that things could go back to normal afterwards?" I was yelling now, tears in my eyes.

"That's not it, Scully, I wasn't thinking--it's not that I don't have feelings for you, I do, but it wouldn't be fair to either of us--"

"THIS isn't fair to me!"

"It wouldn't be right. I'm sorry, but I can't love you. I just can't."

"But you could fuck me?" I was deliberately crass, and I could see it caught him off guard. I was satisfied when the look of shock registered on his face, and when he couldn't respond. I added angrily, "That's all it was for you, wasn't it?" The betrayal in my voice was as clear as the night sky.

"Scully, no..." he trailed off.

"So that's it? That's all I am, after all of this time.."

"No, Scully, you're my best friend, my partner."

"I can't be any of those things anymore, Mulder. Not after this. You made that impossible."

"I know. I knew we could never have what we used to after the other night. After I told you this. You'll be better off without me. Get as far away from me as you can, Scully, all I can do is hurt you. You deserve so much better. That's why, Scully. Because I don't deserve you. I wouldn't be any good for you."

"That decision shouldn't have been only yours to make. How can you sit here now and say I could be just your friend, that you could make love to me--because that's what it was for ME, Mulder, making love--but that you can't love me? Correct me if that's not what you're telling me..."

He said nothing. I took his silence to be an admission: the other night was just some one-time screw for him. That's all I was. From that moment, I knew nothing would ever be the same. He had no right to treat me that way. I felt my hand make swift contact with his face, and finally a tear rolled down my cheek. My hand stinging, we exchanged the final words of the evening.

"Look at me, Scully!" he said, shouting. "This is all I'm capable of. Hurting you. I can't love you. I can't. And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for you, Mulder. I'm sorry that you believe that. You took my choice away from me, Mulder. You took away my life here with what you've done. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for that."

Walking away from him that night was the most difficult decision I've ever made. Of course, part of me wanted to run back to him, to make him love me... I couldn't. He didn't love me, but it was okay for him to have sex with me? It was okay for him to take advantage of the love that I had in my heart for him? I know that he WAS thinking, no matter what he said. He knew what he was doing when he slept with me. He was trying to save me from him. He took away my choice on where I was better off: with him or away from him. There was only one option now.

Didn't he know that I didn't WANT to be saved from him?

He called out for me once, but never again.

I knew, at that moment, that I'd never be able to work with him again. How could I? How could I work with someone who I gave everything to, and who never loved me back? If we had never begun, it wouldn't have mattered if he loved me. Now, it was too late. It's true what they say: sex changes everything. It DID change things between us. It changed everything. I couldn't work with him, because I hated him.

Part of me still hates him, to this day, while I sit here in my office.

The stupid part of me, though, still loves him.


	3. Chapter Two

****

CHAPTER TWO

"Keep the blood in your head,  
and keep your feet on the ground.   
Today's the day it gets tired.   
Today's the day we drop down.   
Give up my body in bed,  
All for an empty hotel.  
Wasting words on lowercases and capitals."  
--Brand New, "The Quiet Things No One Ever Knows"

I had left DC on terrible terms. I handed in my resignation to Skinner, who reluctantly accepted it. Part of me didn't want to let him ruin my work for me, but it was too late for all of that. I couldn't work with him, I couldn't be NEAR him. I was suffocating. I had to go far, far away.

So I did. It wasn't as if I was leaving anything behind, really. I picked up and left. I sub-leased the apartment to someone else who'd finish out my current lease, and packed all of my things. I knew where I'd go, back to San Diego. I'd grown up periodically in California, my family was there, (when they weren't off at sea) and it was far away from Mulder.

He called me the night before I left, to ask where I'd be. When he'd see me again. I remember telling him simply, "I'm leaving, Mulder. I'm sorry things ended the way they did. You were my best friend, but I just can't be here anymore. Not after what happened."

It was true. He HAD been a good friend. My BEST friend. I cried that night, once we'd hung up. Sobbed. All I could remember was him. When I thought I was dying, HE was there. HE was the one beside my bed. I LOVED him but there was nothing I could do about it. We'd shared so damn much, and all of it was ruined in one night. Everything was gone.

And then he had called. After all this time, he called.

Shaken, I left the office and drove to my San Diego home. I'd just recently moved, from my own small condo into a quiet residential suburb of San Diego. Everything had changed since I left DC. I came here, got my medical license, and opened up a practice with a partner. I was a pediatrician, and I loved working with children. I met this great guy, Rob, and we began dating. He was an accountant, and he understood me.

I told him bits and pieces of my history. I told him I once had cancer, I told him I had been an FBI agent, I told him I couldn't have children. The most unbelievable stories--and often the most important--were the ones I couldn't tell him. I never told him about Emily, because it was such a strange story... Why would he believe it? I never told him about the abduction, or the chip in my neck... Everything I told him was vague and shrouded in the dusty mystery of my past.

He didn't pry, and I was thankful. We didn't focus on the past, only our future. I never once told him about Mulder. I may have mentioned "my partner," but never his name. Never. I tried to forget him, but of course I never fully could.

Rob was different than Mulder. He was a cut and dry person, without Mulder's strange quirks. That didn't make him any less wonderful, though. The first time we met, I was at a dinner party that my partner in practice was throwing. Rob was a friend of her husband, and he caught my eye from across the room. I fell for him when I saw him: he had these bright blue eyes, and these curly locks of chestnut brown hair. He was tall, and well built. On top of that, his eyes were riveted on me, and he had no wedding ring on his finger.

He walked over to me, and I smiled at him. I remember watching him saunter over, a glass of wine in his hand. I remember everything about that night. The party had been kind of formal, and he had on a suit. I was wearing a black cocktail dress, and had left my hair down. I took a sip of my own wine, and he stopped in front of me.

"Hi," was all he said.

"Hi."

"I'm Rob, I'm friends with Joe," he told me, and extended his hand.

I shook it and said, "Nice to meet you. I'm Dana, I work with Marilyn."

"Nice to meet you, Dana. I'm surprised we haven't met."

"Oh, I was living in Washington DC for a long time, but I just recently moved back out here. I lived her as a kid, my dad was stationed here with the Navy."

"Oh, I see. Washington, hm? What did you do out there?"

"I was an FBI Agent, but I decided to leave that part of me behind and come west," I smiled.

We spent the most of the evening together, just talking. We clicked right away, and found we had a lot in common. He grew up right outside San Francisco, on the beach. He used to surf, and we talked about that. I mentioned my brief stint where I thought I could learn to surf. I was fourteen and living in San Diego, my dad was at sea, and I met this kid who said he'd teach me. I almost killed myself, and then Mom said no to surfing. Rob, on the other hand, had surfed for quite some time. I had fun talking to him, which was a change for once, and as I was leaving, he walked me out to my car. When we got there, he asked me if I'd like to go out with him to dinner sometime. I said yes, gave him my number, and everything went forward from there.

We started dating, and three months ago he proposed. We'd been together for a year, and of course I said yes. We weren't getting any younger. Even though Mulder was stuck in my mind, and even though I had loved him, I loved Rob, too. Mulder was out of my life, and I had moved on. Everything had changed. In San Diego, I had friends, (many of whom I'd known years ago, but lost touch with when I went to DC) a great job, a nice home, and a fiancé I loved. Even Bill Junior approved. Everything was perfect...everything save for the thoughts of Mulder that would surface just when I thought I finally had things right.

I was living the life I always thought I wanted. It was nice. It was also, well, kind of boring. Compared to chasing conspiracies and UFOs, pediatrics and an accountant were a little dull. But it was nice, it was life.

Then Mulder called. I walked out of my office that night, after the call, and said goodnight to Emma. Emma, my assistant, answered the phones and took care of a lot of paperwork for me at my office. She was young, in her twenties, with long brown hair and olive green eyes. She was a pretty girl, and a nice one as well. I really liked having her work for me, and it was nice to have a young woman to talk to once in a while.

"Who was that guy on the phone?" she asked me, as I was leaving.

"Oh, an old friend," I said nostalgically.

"Friend?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, and finished, "or boyfriend?"

I smiled and said, "I wish it was that simple."

"Interesting," she said.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Anyway, it was a long time ago, and he's in town so we're going to meet up."

"Oh, well have fun," she said.

"Thanks, Emma, don't stay here too late, okay? We can always do that paperwork tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Doctor Scully," she replied.

I spent the drive home contemplating what I'd tell Rob. He knew that I had a partner in the FBI, with whom I was very close, but he never knew we slept together. If I told him we were just going out to catch up, I knew he'd understand. Either way, it was easier than lying. Besides, if he was the kind of man who was going to tell me I couldn't go out and see someone, well then, I wouldn't be with him. He was one of the most understanding people I'd ever met.

I pulled up to our home, glancing at the car clock. It was just about 9:30, which wasn't too late. The office had been relatively quiet that day. I loved my job as a doctor in a different way than I loved the FBI. Here, I could see the difference I was making. I got to help sick little kids, and watch them grow up. One day there so tiny, and then it's WHAM! puberty, and the boys show up five inches taller with deep voices, and the girls all have bigger chests than I do. I'd been working there for two and a half years at that point, when Mulder called. I'd been in San Diego for a total of just over three years, and that had been how long we'd been apart.

I stepped out of my car, and into the warm May night outside. I looked up at our home, admiring it silently. The living room light was on, and I wondered if he had cooked me anything. He was a good cook, unlike Mulder, I thought. I immediately chastised myself for the comparison, and continued on inside of our home. Besides, I had no idea if Mulder could cook. He never tried.

We'd only been living there for two months. It was a two story house, white with big bay windows in the front that looked in on the living room. We had a decent sized built in pool in the back yard, as well as a deck coming off of the kitchen, with lovely sliding glass doors. It had two bedrooms, and another room that was currently his office but could've been a third bedroom. We spoke of possibly adopting a child when we married. The house was perfect, everything about it. Both of us had well paying professions, and his family had always had money. We moved in together after getting engaged, and were anxiously awaiting our wedding in two months...

And now everything had been spun upside down for me.

I pushed the thought away and walked inside. I called out to Rob, and he yelled back to me from the living room. I walked inside to find him watching a baseball game, his feet up on the coffee table, with a beer in his hand. Ah, even the best of them are still men, I reminded myself.

"How was your day, Sweetheart?" he asked, his lips curving into a smile.

"Good...interesting," I said, honestly.

"Why's that?" he asked.

I walked over and sat down on the leather couch next to him. "An old friend called," I said.

"Who?" he asked.

"My old partner, from the FBI. He's in town this week, and wanted to meet up."

"Oh, and are you going to?" he asked, his voice carrying the tiniest hint of suspicion.

"Yes, I told him I would. Look, I don't want to lie to you, we were very close friends, but..."

"But," he urged me on.

"But there's nothing more than that between us," I lied.

"What, you didn't think I wouldn't let you go, did you?" he asked, almost sounding offended.

"No, I knew you would, but, I just wanted to calm any natural, male, territorial, testosterone-induced fears you may have. I only have eyes for you," I said, kissing his lips softly.

Why did I feel like a liar when I said that?

He had made me a chicken Caesar salad, and I ate it happily. Afterwards, we lounged around a bit watching TV, and then went upstairs to bed. I lay beside him, looking at him sleep late that night. Suddenly, Mulder was back in my mind. It wasn't fair. Not to me, not to Rob... It wasn't fair because there I was, two months away from the altar, planning a wedding, and thinking of another man.

Not only that, but I was questioning why I was with Rob. Was it merely the perfect life I was after? It _was_ perfect. Normal jobs, normal home... We even had a fireplace with pictures of our family and us together on the mantle. All we didn't have was a dog and a white picket fence, although we were considering getting a puppy soon. It was perfect domestication, with the perfect man.

Part of me didn't want perfect. Perfect was mundane. Part of me longed for Mulder, for our adventures and our search for the truth. That was hard to let go of; not just Mulder, but my search for the truth was left behind in DC. I'd left that for this, but was this what I really wanted? What I really needed? Was it simply because I couldn't have my ideal life with Mulder anymore that I had this one? Did I really love Rob? I cared deeply about him, and sure I loved him, but was I in love with him? Could I give him all he had given me, or would I falter like Mulder had in returning my complete and true love?

Could I share with this man my soul...or did it already belong to someone else? Someone who didn't want it...

I did love Rob, but part of me screamed that it wasn't the way I loved Mulder. It didn't matter, I couldn't have Mulder. It was silly to even bother reasoning it out. Mulder wasn't really even my friend anymore, let alone a potential lover. Even if my heart ached for him, it was over. He was dead to me until he called, and that was what had made this easier. I could be with Rob if I felt like Mulder was gone, and there was no chance to be with him. In those moments, I felt like my heart did belong to Rob, the way he'd given me his. I felt like there was something I could hold onto.

When Mulder was back in the picture, however, part of me was missing. I'd given him everything, and he gave me nothing back in return. I wanted something back, but I supposed that I'd never get it. So instead, I'd given whatever was left of me to Rob, in return for what he promised me: himself, a life together characterized not by searches or truths, but only by home cooked meals and happy domesticity.

I sighed quietly, and rolled over. Soon I'd have to face all of this... Face him. I fell into a restless sleep, and dreamed of old memories with the man who wouldn't love me back.

Notes: More soon! Thank you for all of the reviews, they make me less lazy when updating. Keep 'em coming!


	4. Chapter Three

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CHAPTER THREE

"I know a pretty little place in Southern California down San Diego way...  
There's a little cafe, where they play guitars all night and day."  
--Bruce Springsteen, "Rosalita"

The table I sat at was outside, and the California sun was just beginning to set. I had always liked this place, Sandy's. It was a little cafe, and they always had some form of live entertainment, almost always someone on an acoustic guitar. Currently, it was someone playing classic rock covers, and I hummed along quietly. My table was in the front, so I'd see Mulder as soon as he approached. I glanced down at my watch, seeing it was 7:05. Mulder never was punctual when it came to things like this.

I liked San Diego. Everything had a bit of a Spanish flair, considering its proximity to Mexico. It was warm, and it was nice to go from chasing monsters in the rain to laying out on the beach in the sun. I wondered why Mulder would be here. A case, most likely. A sand monster, perhaps.

I thought about what had changed since I left. I looked pretty much the same, although my hair was a bit longer now, and cut differently. It was just falling to my shoulders, where it'd curl out just a bit. The color was a little lighter, to go with the whole California sunshine thing. I was three years older, but I didn't feel it showed too much. I was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a low cut black shirt. I may not have known how I felt, but I wanted to look good regardless. This was what he was missing, I reminded myself. I was almost the same woman he left on the outside, but everything else had changed.

Three years. That's a long time to be without someone who was once your best friend. Three years felt like too long of an absence from someone who I once thought was my soul mate. Someone who I still didn't know whether I loved or hated... Although I leaned toward the latter, the former was still there in my heart.

Then I saw him. He was wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt that was clinging to his lean chest. He was almost the same, only looking slightly worn. He hadn't shaved that day, I could tell from the razor stubble adorning his face. He looked lost, and I could tell that maybe this hadn't been a trip out to San Diego for the sun and the surf. Part of me, the cruelest part, was happy that he looked like he needed me. He met my gaze and smiled. I returned the smile half-heartedly, and he sat at the table.

"Scully," he said, seeming at a loss for words.

Scully. God, I hadn't been called that in ages. Dana, Sweetheart, Doctor Scully, but never just Scully. That was just him.

"Hi, Mulder," I said, a smile genuinely forming now. He may have hurt me, but he was once my best friend.

"You look stunning," he said.

"Thank you," I replied modestly, looking away from him.

A waitress came by and we ordered drinks, wine for both of us.

"So, Mulder, what brought you here all of a sudden? For three years you haven't tried to reach me, but now..."

"It's a combination of things, but my life's been falling apart," he answered honestly.

The waitress returned with our two glasses, and then left.

"I realized, after you left, what I had lost," he said. "I was wrong in everything I told you, Scully, everything."

"It's a bit late for that, Mulder," I told him.

He saw the ring on my finger and said, "I know. You're engaged?" he asked.

"Yes," I told him simply.

"He's a lucky guy," he said.

"Could've been your luck," I found myself saying, without thinking about it.

"I know. To think I threw it all away," he paused, taking a moment to regroup. "Once you were gone, I had nothing left but my work. I found a lot of things, things about Samantha...my family... I found a lot of answers," he said.

"I'm glad," I told him, honestly meaning it.

"That's not all. I was alone, and I found..." he trailed off, almost afraid to speak, "the colonization date. I know that you never really fully believed, but after I got sick I know that you opened up to it and..."

"Mulder, I'm not on the X-Files anymore. I'm not with the FBI anymore. I'm not Scully now, not to anyone but you. I'm just Dana."

"I know, but I need Scully. I mean, I need her for my own personal reasons, yes, reasons that have nothing to do with work, but I understand that I had my chances. I understand that I threw away my one and only chance with--"

"Mulder," I warned him, not wanting to hear his self-deprecation.

"That's only part of this, Scully. I'm not asking you to help me for myself. I wouldn't expect that."

"Then what are you asking, Mulder?"

"You're the only one I can trust, even now. You're the only one who ever stood by me--you left, but it wasn't because of the work or my beliefs. You left because I made you, because I thought that would be the best for you, to get away. I know what I did, even if I wasn't sure of it then. I stole your choice to stay. A lot's changed since then, Scully, you said that yourself, and I was no exception to that rule. I changed," he paused again, sipping his wine. "They know I found the date."

"Who knows?"

"The Syndicate, the remaining members. Smoking Man is still alive, and he's got several others with him. They've set the colonization date."

"When?" I asked.

"December of 2012," he said.

"Well, Mulder, it's May of 2003. You come to me, after three years, with a story about colonization way in the future, asking me for what?"

"Your help. You have to help me stop them. You're a doctor, a scientist, an investigator. You're my partner. You were such a big part of the X-Files... I thought you'd want to help me stop this."

"Why should I even believe you? I mean, after all we've been through--"

"Can't you leave personal matters aside, Scully?"

"No!" I found myself saying, annoyed. "No, because it always was personal to me. Mulder, you have no idea what you did to me, what you put me through. I loved the X-Files, I loved you," I admitted, "and you made me leave it all behind. You made me hate you. I don't know what to feel now, and you're here with some tale of the Syndicate and colonization--"

"They're trying to kill me, Scully!" he said. "They want me to forget about it, let the end come, and I can't do that. Look at me! I'm a mess! I don't know what to do anymore. I knew that I had to see you. I knew that as often as I fuck things up, you always do the right thing. I knew that you'd know what to do," he said.

"Why do you believe they're trying to kill you?" I asked.

"The Gunmen found bugs in my apartment. They've been watching me. I've received several threats on my life, and I even had a run-in with Krycek. He cornered me in an alley, a gun to my head, and told me to stop looking. To forget what I'd found. I don't know why I'm still alive, Scully. All I know is that I have time, time to stop colonization...but I can't do it alone."

"I thought that the Syndicate had fallen apart," I said, remembering their deaths at the hands of the alien rebels.

"The Smoking Man and Krycek survived, as you know. The faceless Rebels has eliminated the other members of the Syndicate, and all work on the hybridization project was lost, including the only successful hybrid, Cassandra Spender. The Rebels stole the fetus, to use in their war with the colonizing force. Smoking Man still held a great amount of power, amassing a new group--the group that included Diana Fowley. The group that had experimented on me. They were desperate, looking for a way to save themselves now that the option of hybridization was lost. The vaccine has been created, but they don't know how much help it'll be in a large scale attack. So they began new experiments, like the one on me, to try to develop a new defense against them. The projects are highly classified. Like I said, the aliens aren't helping them anymore...everything has gone to hell, and they'll do anything to save themselves, including sacrificing everyone else. I found the date Scully. I found it, and I need you to help me stop it."  
I took a moment to think before I finally spoke.

"I can't do it, Mulder, I'm sorry. That part of my life is over now," I told him, sipping my wine. "I'm not going to lie, I miss it in a way. Here, though, I've got too much... I can't just go back to the way things were before...that night. I've got commitments; a job, a wedding to plan..."

"Scully, even if you'd listen to me, I'd never be able to explain how I've felt these three years. What you took with you when you left..." God, why did his thoughts mirror my own? Why did everything have to be so complicated? "...but I know that you love someone else now. I know that I wouldn't let myself love you until you left, and then, NOW, it's too late. I know all of that. But please, don't deny me--and the entire world--your help in saving it."

"Please don't imply that if I don't help you the world will end, because I know and you know that I can't save the world," I told him.

"No, Scully, but you can help. You can be a part of it. There's a group of people like myself, like you, and I've got Skinner...we are planning to fight colonization-"

"I don't know if I even believe in colonization!"

"Don't do this to me, Scully."

"Don't do this to you? What about all you've done to me? Why should I come back, Mulder? To fight against something I don't really believe will happen? I'm following your own advice. I'm staying as far away from you as I can."

"Scully, I'll prove it to you. I'll show you, I'll take you to the place where I found the dates, the plans... They're serious this time, and they know that I know. We have to stop them before it's too late. Nobody except me and a few others are aware of this...I've got Skinner with me, but there's still only a few of us, and if they get rid of us, then no one will stop them."

"I'm sorry, Mulder, I have a life here... I can't leave that now," I told him. I wanted to, just for a moment when I looked into his eyes...

"I'm not asking you to leave forever, I'm not even asking you to come with me... I just need your help," he said.

"Mulder, I'm sorry," I told him simply. "I'm a different person, with different needs..."

"I NEED you--"

"Well you didn't then!" I found myself snapping. Then I quietly added, "Not when I needed you the most."

"I needed you then, Scully, I was just too blind to see it," he said. "I want to make this personal, but I can't, because someone else's heart is involved," he said, looking at my ring.

"I love him, Mulder," I said. "I love my new life. Once upon a time I loved other things, but that's changed," I said, a sad smile adorning my lips.

"Think about what you're doing. Think about what you're risking. Everything you're staying for will be gone in a few years if you don't help me," he said. I said nothing in return and he handed me a card with a telephone number written on it. "This is where I'm staying. I'll be here a while, it's not safe for me to leave yet."

"Okay," I sighed softly. God, he was leaving again and part of me wanted him to stay SO badly...

"Think about it," he repeated again, placing money on the table for our drinks.

I sat in silence as he walked away. He turned to me once more and said, "Hey Scully?"  
I looked at him in reply.

"I've missed you," he said.

I smiled sadly, wordlessly, and he walked away.

****

NOTES: Set in May 2003! Gosh, I started this so long ago! Thanks for the reviews. Sorry for the delay with this chapter, but I was at yearbook camp learning how to be an editor-in-chief. So you know I'm cool.


	5. Chapter Four

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CHAPTER FOUR

"Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse?"  
--Bruce Springsteen, "The River"

I was lost. I was utterly lost. I didn't know what to do when he left. It was this sudden emptiness. The only thing that could fill that emptiness was confusion and indecisiveness. I didn't know what to do. I sat there by myself, trying to gather my thoughts. Trying to figure out what to do with myself. Seeing him had affected me more than I thought it would.

Colonization? Part of me didn't want to turn my back on something like that. It wouldn't be right to let something like that happen because of personal matters. Another part of me said that there was no such thing as colonization. Mulder was pretty crazy when I knew him, and he only got crazier when he left. Maybe he was just lonely.

Maybe he just figured that since he was in town he could call me up, and I'd fall for him, and he'd just leave me again...

That was what I feared in being with Mulder. Regardless of Rob or anything else, I would be afraid to fall for Mulder again. I let myself do that once, and look at what happened. What if I left everything behind and went with Mulder again? He couldn't love me then, why would he be able to now? Had he changed, or was he just the same man? Would he get me to chase shadows with him, then to give my heart to him, everything he'd been offered all those years ago? What would he do with them?

Did they belong to Rob now? They had to. It was too much for me. It was crazy.

I found myself thinking that maybe Mulder just wanted me to help him with his work. Part of me hated that his reason for returning was the X-Files. I wanted him to come back because he loved me. He didn't, I told myself, as I sat there alone in the restaurant. He told me he didn't back then. But as we talked together, he'd implied that his feelings had changed...but it didn't matter. He came back about our work...his work. It wasn't my work anymore. I had left that part of me behind.

I didn't really believe in colonization, anyway. That was what I tried to convince myself. That he'd come back about work that I didn't believe in. His reason for needing me now was to save the world from something that wasn't even going to happen. The Syndicate was dead. Nobody was trying to kill him. He was just crazy. He ALWAYS was crazy. It would be best to forget about it, and move on with my life. I was taking his own advice. I was staying nice and safe, as far away from him as possible. We were just old acquaintances, who almost were lovers...

Maybe I'd invite him to my wedding.

Seeing him had made me smile. I had loved him once. Beyond that, we were best friends. Even after all of the pain he'd caused me, I would never forget those years that we spent together happily. We virtuously crusaded for a cause we believed in. He'd showed me that maybe his ideas weren't all insane. I did believe in some things. I believed his theories about the military and my abduction... I had almost become a believer. I could've been one, but then things changed. Sex changes everything.

I finally left the cafe, telling myself that I'd just leave this behind. I'd done it before. I was able to move on. I HAD moved on. I looked at my watch. It was 8:15, on a Friday night. I could still get home and go out with Rob for the evening. I couldn't let this drive me crazy. I was going to get married. I was in love with Rob, and he loved me. I'd be Dana Pier in a few short months. I'd leave Scully behind, with Mulder. Where she belonged. I was Dana Pier.

I spent that night as Dana Pier. I went home and found Rob still there. I had thought he might have gone out with some friends, as it was a Friday night. Unlike my life in Washington, we did things together. We went out to bars and restaurants and the movies. It was something that I hadn't experienced since I was with Daniel in med school. Even then, we went out in relative secrecy, going further away than necessary to go to a restaurant or movie. Later in life, Jack Willis and I were so caught up in work that we didn't get out much, either.

Rob was a welcome change to that. We went out that night, to a nice bar we went to rather often. It was a calm and quiet evening, and he didn't ask about Mulder. I was happy, because I wouldn't have known what to say. We ended up running into some friends from the area, and we had a good time. Before Rob, I didn't have fun like this. When I once or twice ventured out into the dating scene, it was always disastrous. All of that had changed. Everything had changed.

I'd dreamed of so many different things for my life. Many of them fell apart...the X-Files, Mulder...but it finally seemed as if one of them was finally coming true. I was going to get married. I wasn't going to die alone and miserable. I was going to marry this man that I loved...

I shouldn't have been so foolish. I should have seen that all of my dreams shatter. I didn't, though. That night, I convinced myself that my past was forgotten. It had come back, and I had been able to stare it in the face without falling for it again. I was strong now, not like I was three years ago when I fell for him. Not like I was when he kissed me and I told him that I loved him. That was what I had convinced myself.

Rob and I had a lovely time. I often wish I could revisit that night. If I could go back, I would have told him every single thing I'd ever felt about him. I would have been totally honest. I would have made everything last longer, had more fun. We went home after the bar in a cab, and I let him take my mind off of Mulder when we got home.

Some time later, we were laying in bed when he said, "I love you, Dana." I smiled at him quietly, and kissed his lips softly. Mulder had never said it to me after I'd said it to him. That was what had always bothered me the most. It wasn't as if he loved me, but felt it couldn't work. No, it seemed to me that he took my heart, but never loved me at all.

Things with Rob were different. I often feared he loved me more than I loved him. In that moment, as we snuggled beside one another in bed, I turned to him, to return his words. When I went to speak, I realized that he had fallen asleep. Silently, I closed my eyes and joined him.

I didn't know it would be the last time.

NOTES: I uploaded this chap on the tails of the last one because there's not much action in it, and it's short, and it leads up to big drama in the next chapter. I was feeling energized by reviews and by John Kerry's speech, hehehe. The next chapter will come in due time. And I assure you, there is much more angst to come.

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	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

"Girl come to me, the only broken hearted loser you'll ever need...or I'll be left alone forever with my magazines."  
--Brand New, "Magazines"

It was going to be a regular day. It was a Saturday, and I had gone in to work in the morning. The other doctor I practiced with, Dr. Marilyn Aronson, was going to work the afternoon. I wasn't much in a working mood. I was trying to force myself to plan my wedding. There were people I had to call, seating arrangements to be made, flowers arrangements to think about...a wedding dress, most of all.

So I got home early, and did just that. Rob had gone to meet some friends. They were going fishing on his friend Jacob's fishing boat. I'd been on it once, and although I loved the sea, I didn't care much for fishing. The boat reeked of fish, and was even named after fish: The Steel Bass. It had been one of our first few dates, actually. Rob found out that I loved the sea from our first surf conversation, and he also found out that my dad had been a Navy captain He borrowed the boat and took me out, just he and I, for a sunny afternoon ride. We fished for a while, but spend most of the time just talking. I remember it as the date when I really started to fall for him. The way I judged that by was the fact that never once that day did I think about how much I missed Mulder.

While he was off fishing, I was home planning who would sit with who, and going through tons of wedding catalogues. There were so many styles of wedding dresses, and it was so hard to choose just one. I had dreamed of this day for ages... It was sad that my best friend--at one point, at least--wouldn't be there. I was seriously considering sending him an invitation. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway, when I look back on it.

The day dragged on uneventfully. It was painfully normal. Rob checked in with me over the phone at three, telling me they were still out on the boat. They planned to go out to eat afterwards, so they'd probably be a while. I didn't really mind. I liked to be alone, sometimes. I remember thinking that to myself, unaware of the irony in the statement. All of it would soon become clear to me.

I must've gone through tons of wedding catalogues until I found it: the perfect dress. The top was strapless, and was textured beautifully. It came in around the models curves, a woman who was built quite a bit like me, but taller. You don't see many models my height. It accentuated her modest features, making her look curvy and utterly stunning. The top part came in at the waist in a corset kind of way, and then suddenly flared out elegantly down to her feet. There was a train in the back, and everything about it seemed to fit me perfectly. I circled it with then pen I'd been chewing on, knowing this was the exact style I wanted.

The phone rang then, startling me. I stopped staring at the dress like a little kid in a candy store, and went to the telephone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dana, it's me," Rob said.

"Hey," I said. "You on your way home?" I asked, and looked at the clock. 6:32.

"Yeah, but the car was making a really loud, strange noise. I have no clue about these things," he laughed.

"Hmm, I knew that car needed a tune-up," I said.

"It's so sad that you probably know more about fixing this thing than I do," he said.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"About a half hour from home. Don't worry, someone stopped to help me," he said. Then, I heard him say to the man helping him, "Hey, buddy, could you watch where you spit those sunflower seeds?" in a good-natured way.

I smiled nostalgically. Yes, those things could make a big mess. I took up eating them after I moved out here. I never really noticed it, until now. I could probably use a trip to a good psychologist, I thought wryly. I stopped my musings to concentrate on the situation.

"So you're all right?" I asked.

"Uh huh, I'm fine," he said. "Good thing someone stopped," he said.

"Yeah. Be careful, okay Rob?"

"I will, Sweetheart, don't worry," he said, followed by "What? Really? Thanks again, man," to the person helping him. "See, Dana, he's done. He says it's probably just the transmission. I'll be home in a few."

"Okay. See you soon," I said.

I turned on the television and immersed myself in the bizarre plot of a Lifetime movie. They were always strange, and unbelievable. Still, I was always sucked in. This one was about a young woman being sexually harassed by her local government official, but nobody believed her. That was what most of them were about, actually, or something to that effect. A few minutes through, I'd gotten a pint of mint chocolate chip from the freezer, and was eating it from the carton. Yes, Lifetime and ice cream, a guilty pleasure of mine.

I began to grow restless, and worried, when he didn't arrive home. It was over an hour after he called that there was a knock at the door. I became suddenly nervous. My fiancé would not knock at the door of his own home... He should have been home. I opened the door to see a relatively young, blonde, male, police officer outside. Police officers at the door were never good.

"Yes?" I asked, trying my hardest to maintain my composure.

"Dana Scully?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"I'm Officer Jaret Reddick of the San Diego Police Department--"

"Is it Rob? Is he okay?"

"Are you the fiancé of Rob S. Pier?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, what's wrong?"

"Mr. Pier was in a fatal collision on his way home tonight..."

I could say nothing.

"I'm sorry," the officer said.

"Oh, God," finally escaped my lips. My hands began to tremble as tears filled my eyes. "What, what happened?" I asked.

"Initial investigations show his brakes may have been damaged. He went right through a red light, hitting another vehicle on his drivers side. He was pronounced dead upon arrival at Sharp Memorial Hospital. We most likely will not be able to further investigate the brakes due to extensive front end damage and burning..."

"Do you, um, suspect any foul play?" I asked.

"Not initially, no, this kind of thing can happen to an older car...but, well, did your fiancé have any enemies?" he asked.

I paused and answered, "No."

"Is there anyone you suspect?"

Sunflower seeds. The man who had helped was spitting sunflower seeds. The only thing holding me back from going off with Mulder was Rob. Would Mulder go that far?

"No," I answered, despite my honest suspicions. "His car," I said, wiping a tear from my cheek, "it um, was having trouble. It was making a noise... He had stopped on the way home, someone had helped him out. That was the last time we spoke..." A sob caught in my throat.

"That sounds like it was probably car trouble that caused the accident. Had he had his brakes checked out anytime recently?"

"No, he hadn't..." the car was kind of old, but still... "Was anyone else hurt?"

"The other driver has minor injuries, but that's all," he told me.

God, could Mulder have done this? Was this his way of trying to get through to me?

"When you're ready, we're going to need some paperwork filled out, but take your time," the officer said.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," I said, still crying.

"Here's my card. Just call me at the station, and I'll update you on everything," he said.

"Okay. Thank you," I said.

"I'm sorry again, ma'am."

He left and I made my way back to the couch, where I fell back and just sobbed. Suddenly he was just gone. Gone. You never realize how much you really do care about someone--love them--until they're gone. I stayed there for a long time, and then managed to get the phone to call my mother.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Mom," I said, my voice thick with tears.

"Dana? Dana, honey, what's wrong?"

"Rob, Mom, it's Rob..."

"What happened?"

"He's gone, Mom. A car accident...he was on his way home but he didn't make it..."

"Dana, oh, God, I'm so sorry, baby. I'm going to fly out there as soon as I can..."

"I just don't know what to do, Mom..."

"I know, Dana, I know..."

"I picked out my wedding dress today," I said, another sob escaping my lips.

"He's in a better place, Dana, he's in a better place."

I was going to tell her about Mulder, but didn't. I didn't want him brought into this; I didn't want to believe that he could've killed Rob.

"Are you going to be okay until I get there?" she asked.

"Yeah, mom, I'll be okay..."

We talked for a while, and she managed to calm me down for a bit. It was so hard to believe that he had been snatched from my life, just like that... A car accident. Seemingly random, but then again... Talking to Mom made me feel a bit better, but a mother could always do that for her child, no matter how old she was. Our conversation lingered for quite some time before I was ready to be alone again.

"Be strong, darling, I'm going to call the airline and try to get a ticket for the morning."

"Okay Mom, thanks."

"I love you, Dana. I'm sorry," she said.

"Thank you, Mom."

I was alone again. I sat there, crying, knowing I should call the police officer about the paperwork. I'd have to fill out paperwork concerning insurance...and then the lawyers would want to talk to me. We had made wills together a few months ago. Well, I'd always had a will, but I had to change mine. I didn't want Mulder getting most of my belongings, which was how it was before Rob. I knew I'd get the house and most of his funds. We had a joint checking account. He'd left various other things, possessions, to his brother, and his nephews and nieces. His poor family...his poor mother and father...outliving their child.

The doorbell rang.

I padded over to the door, still crying, trying to sort things through in my mind. I looked in the peephole, and almost collapsed seeing who was outside. No. Why did he have to be a part of this? Why the hell was he here? Why did he have to do this to me? How much more was I supposed to go through? I opened the door slightly, almost afraid. After all, I believed he may have killed my husband.

"Mulder, what are you doing here?" I asked, still crying a bit.

"I'm sorry, Scully, I'm so sorry. I didn't think they'd kill him, I didn't think--"

"How do YOU know about that? Nobody knows yet!"

"I got a call..."

"Mulder, I need you to tell me. Did you..." I paused, losing the words.

"No! You think I killed him?"

I couldn't say anything.

"Scully, I may hope and pray each day that you'd forgive me, but I'd never kill a man to try and make you. Honestly, Scully, would I be that stupid? Killing him wouldn't make you come with me."

"Then how did you know he was dead?" I asked, my voice heavy with suspicion.

"Will you let me in the house, Scully?" he asked.

Annoyed, I let him in. We walked into the living room.

"I got a call from Krycek. He said that they had your fiancé killed, and they set me up. They said that you'd think it was me. They did it so you wouldn't help me, so you'd think I was nuts... He said if you come back with me, things will get worse..."

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" I asked.

"Scully, trust me," he said.

Trust. That was what it was always about.

"I don't know you anymore! My fiancé is dead! I LOVED him, Mulder! And he's dead!"

"And THEY did it, Scully. Krycek had his people follow him. Had someone stop and pretend to help, but really cut his brakes. And he made it seem like this person was me. It wasn't."

"Why should I believe this?"

"What time were you on the phone with him, when he was in his car?" he asked.

"Six thirty," I said.

"It couldn't have been me cutting his brakes, then. At six thirty I was on the phone with--" he suddenly stopped, looking sheepish.

"With whom, Mulder?" I questioned.

"Promise not to murder me," he said.

"With whom?"

"It's a one nine hundred number."

"Mulder! This is not the time to joke around!"

"I wish I was joking!" he responded.

"Why should I believe a word you say?"

"You can call her! Her name was Candy! We had a discussion before we actually started, you know..."

"So I'm going to trust you and some phone sex operator named CANDY? Look, I'm not sure how phone sex lines work, for the obvious reasons, but how would this woman know your real name? I'm sure you didn't have her gasping out 'Fox' now did you?"

"No, I gave her the name Marty. Come on, Scully, you know that's my under cover type name. I always use it when I call--" he stopped again.

"I really don't care to know about your phone sex calls, Mulder," I said.

"She can prove it because we talked first. I guess she noticed that I sounded upset, and she was probably bored with doing the same thing over and over, so she asked why. Besides, the longer I stay on the line, the more she gets paid. I talked with her about you."

"Mulder, this is utterly ridiculous. I'm not calling up your stupid phone sex line."

"I'll call."

"Mulder..."

"Scully, this is the only way you'll ever REALLY believe I didn't kill Rob. Now I can prove to you that there really IS a conspiracy out there trying to us, so I won't expose them," he said, taking out his cell phone.

I wanted to kill him at that moment. What the hell was I doing? Why was I letting him call up this phone sex line? How the fuck did I move from mourning my fiancé's death to THIS? This was madness...but... He was right. Without proof, I would always wonder if he had killed Rob. Maybe he had. As changed as Mulder was, though, I couldn't see him killing my future husband. If he wanted me back, (why couldn't he have wanted me all those years ago?) surely he wouldn't have thought that killing my lover would win me over. Mulder may have been desperate, and a little crazy, but he was more intelligent than that.

I watched as he punched his credit card number into the phone without taking out the card. Call often, Mulder? I thought to myself.

"Yeah, um, can I get Candy? It's important. I know. That's fine. Thanks," I heard him say. "Candy! Hi, um, it's Marty from earlier this night, you know, 6:30ish..." he paused as she spoke, and answered, "Yeah. Okay, listen, I have to prove to a woman, here, that I was on the phone with you at that time. Yeah, um, so you can just tell her everything we talked about. No, no, not that, before that. Okay, thanks. Yes, I'll pay," he said. "Here she is."

Suddenly, I was on the phone with some phone sex operator. "Um, hello?" I asked.

"Hey. Okay, so the deal on this guy is he was on the phone with me, and before we started to...you know...he sounded real sad. So I asked him if he was upset, and he said yeah, so I asked why. You know, we're paid by how long we're on the phone, hun, so I figured I'd cash in. I got a kid to feed, ya know. He said he saw this woman he ain't seen in a long time, and that he missed her. This was earlier today, like 6:30ish. Lemme check my call log, I'll give you the exact time," she paused a moment and answered, "six twenty-nine till six forty-eight. So then I asked the chick's name and he told me and I asked if maybe he wanted to pretend--"

"That's enough," I said politely.

"Okay, sure. You got your proof now?" she asked.

"Yeah. Thanks," I said, hanging up. I looked to him and said, "So you're really sure it's them, Mulder? That they did this?"

"Yeah. I picked up the phone earlier, and it was Krycek. He said that your fiancé would be killed in an accident, after a passerby helped him with his brakes...by cutting them. He said if I kept looking, he'd make sure I never saw you again. It was a warning to leave them alone...to sit back and watch colonization. This is why I needed your help. You're the only person with your kind of qualifications that can help me. You're the only person who I trust...still."

"I need...I need some time," I said.

"I know. I know you do. I'm sorry. I know that you loved him."

He held out his arms to hold me, and I let him. How could this have happened? The man I'm supposed to marry is gone, and suddenly Mulder is back in my life? I can't just run off with him... I mean, Rob, God, I loved him, too. Even if there were doubts, they had been tiny ones. I had loved Rob. I was going to marry him, and now he was gone. My whole life was torn apart, for the second time in three years.

"I just need some time with this, Mulder," I repeated, freeing myself from his embrace.

"It's okay. I have to go back to DC for a while. Skinner's expecting me. I should be back out here in about a month... We can talk about everything then," he told me.

"Yeah, we can. Um, how did you find my house?" I asked, suddenly realizing he'd never been here.

"You're listed," he smiled. "You can be listed when you're not a G-woman in the middle of a worldwide conspiracy. Although, you may want to take your name out of the phone book, now."

"Who knows how long I'll be here now," I sighed. "Um, let me give you my new cell phone number for when you come back, I don't know if I'll still be living here. It's kind of big for just me," I sighed.

I gave him my number, since I had this sinking sensation that I'd be off chasing shadows and conspiracies with him relatively soon.

"I'm sorry about Rob, Scully," he said, walking out the door.

"Yeah. Me too," I replied, and he left.

Suddenly, I was more alone than ever. My fiancé was dead, and the other man whom I once loved was mixed up in the conspiracy who killed him...and now both of them were gone. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't let them just get away with killing Rob... But in going with Mulder, I'd have to fall back into my old life. I'd have to accept the fact that I could fall for him again...

I cried myself to sleep that night, something I'd be doing all too often that month.

NOTES: A long chapter for you guys! Poor Rob... But lucky me for all of the reviews I've been getting. Keep them up, you guys are the best! Stay tuned for mourning and moving in the next few chapters!


	7. Chapter Six

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CHAPTER SIX

"When you lose a part of yourself to somebody you know, it's takes a lot to let go. Every breath that you remember, pictures fade away, but memory's forever."  
--New Found Glory, "Sonny"

The funeral was devastatingly sad. His family was so upset... I had this deep seated guilt, knowing it hadn't been an accident. Rob had been murdered. There was nothing I could do to seek justice through the police. The only justice I'd be able to seek would be with Mulder. The only justice I would ever find would be the justice in destroying their plans, in foiling colonization...

I remember sitting in the first pew with his family, and my mother. My mother held my hand, and I quietly cried most of the service. I'd been through things like this so many times. I've had to let go of so many people in my life. He was in a better place, I told myself. Somewhere without conspiracies and Krycek and colonization. He was luckier than his family knew, in a way. He'd died blissfully unaware of all of the things really going on. Of all of the things I'd have to experience and face in the coming months.

When family and friends began to eulogize him, I took my turn. I told the story of how we met, and then how he proposed. I told the people who loved him how kind and generous he always was. I recalled how he always put my interests ahead of his own. All he ever seemed to want was to make other people happy. He was caring, utterly selfless, wonderfully perfect. Except for the fact that he always hung up the towels in the bathroom wrong. It was just about the only thing we ever argued about.

It was hard for me to leave the service. I knew that when I walked out, I would never see him again. It was hard enough knowing he'd never speak to me again, knowing that he'd never hold me again... The worst part was that in some way, it was my fault. I knew it wasn't fair to blame myself, but that didn't ease the feeling of guilt that was attacking my insides. I left that day without really letting go, without reconciling things in my own head.

Another difficult thing for me were the legal aspects. Money and possessions were the last things I wanted to think about, but the lawyers began to call... The house belonged to me, but I knew I wouldn't be staying there long. I'd sell it, I supposed. I didn't know where I'd move, but I wasn't going to stay in San Diego. I'd go off and become Agent Scully again. I'd leave my job as a pediatrician behind. I'd leave everything behind. What had tied me to my new life was the most important person in it; Rob was gone now.

This of course, brought to mind the fact that I would need some form of money. I'd also be needing my job at the FBI back, too. Mulder had said that Skinner was on board with this project, at least in secret. Maybe the Assistant Director could pull some strings, and speed up the process of getting my job back. After all, he had reluctantly accepted my resignation three years ago. It wasn't as if I was pressured to leave, it was in fact quite the opposite.

As the days passed, I tried to busy myself with these concerns to keep my mind off of the concerns that frightened me most. I'd have to be with Mulder again. I'd have to work beside the man who I had slept with, and then was later rejected by. There was the emotional damage he'd done, the damage to my self-esteem, the fact that I'd never felt worse about myself than in the moment he chose his work over me. I'd felt inadequate. I was not enough. What was to me an amazing night, one in which I experienced a deep connection with the man I had felt was my soul mate, was to him not good enough to make him want to stay with me.

Now I was going back to this man. Was he telling me the truth? Had he really changed his mind? Did he want me now, even love me, despite what he'd said all those years ago? Was it true that he was just too blind to see it then, and that he really did want to be with me? Had he been trying to protect me back then? What did he really want now?

Or maybe he meant what he said back then. Maybe he'd felt close to me, but was not in love me. He had said it would be better for me to get away from him. All he could do was hurt me. He knew I'd never abandon him. The only way to make me leave would be to sleep with me. When I was ready to commit to a romantic life with him, he realized he couldn't commit to me. No, the only thing he could commit to was the X-Files.

The worst was the way my thoughts about the issue would move from rational ones, to irrational panics. I wasn't worth committing to. He didn't want me. I wasn't enough. His work was what he needed, not me. I couldn't fulfill the ache in his soul, his search for his answers. I never could.

It sounded ridiculous to me as I thought it that evening in my empty San Diego home. The saddest part was that when I had initially thought those things three years ago, I began to believe them. I came here with a skewed sense of myself. My first date was with Rob, and it was really just a way to prove to myself that I COULD get a date.

Even before Mulder, I never let myself get too close to people. I was so afraid to lose them that I didn't even bother to really gain them in the first place. Now that the person I'd let myself get close to was gone from my life, this theory was simply reinforced. It took me a long time to get close to Rob, to let him in.

I finally had let him in, and now, because of my past indiscretions, he was dead.

I could have made a bunch of psychologists into millionaires with all of my problems, but my biggest problem was that I didn't do that. I didn't talk to ANYONE about this. For three years, my every concern about my past was ignored, stuffed down, deep within me. Suddenly, there I was, facing all of it in one moment, coupled with guilt and grief and anxiety and fear...

Two weeks after the funeral, I told my medical partner that I'd be leaving. I began to pack up at home, and put the house up for sale. Even if I never left with Mulder, I wasn't going to stay there. Not in that big house, not in San Diego. There wasn't any reason to. Sure, Bill Jr. was here, but how often do I really want to see him? The last thing he needs to know is that I'm running off with Mulder. Things were basically ready to go. A lot of Rob's belongings went to his family. I sold some furniture, but kept some things, and began to ponder where on earth I'd stay. I had plenty of money, Rob was wealthy and I made quite a bit of money as a doctor. Between that, the money from the possessions I'd sold and the house when it was finally bought, I was better than just well-off. I could always stay with my mother in Baltimore, anyway.

Mulder was true to his word. Almost exactly a month of grieving and crying and thinking had gone by when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to see him standing there, and he offered a fleeting smile. His expression was blank afterwards, the way it often was. Pondering, thinking, but unreadable. Finally, I spoke.

"Hi, Mulder," I said.

"Hi," he replied.

"Um, come in," I said, opening the door for him. He followed me in and I motioned for him to take a seat on my living room couch.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

"All things considered, I've been fine."

"I haven't heard that in a while," he said.

It took a moment for me to realize he was referring to the fact that I'd yet again said I was 'fine.'

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"I talked to Skinner," he began. "To get your job back, you'd just need to have a physical and complete a firearms test. They'd probably give you a paper test, too, on rules and regulations and whatnot. They just want to be sure you're still capable of doing your job."

"It's better than going through Quantico again," I said.

"So you're really going to come with me?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "The house is up for sale. I'd probably have to fly back in once or twice to deal with the closing, but it looks like I've got a buyer. The only thing now is that I'm going to need somewhere to stay in DC."

"You could stay with me," he offered.

I take a long time searching for an answer. I can't tell him that I'm afraid I'll fall for him again, so I simply say "I don't think I feel comfortable with that."

"C'mon, Scully, I'm your friend, not some serial killer or rapist or something," he said.

I had an answer for that, but said nothing. "I'll find a place. Until I do, I can keep my things in storage and stay with my mother."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"Don't be sorry, Mulder," I said.

"Whatever you want," he conceded.

The problem was that I didn't know what I wanted. I just didn't want Rob to die in vain. I wanted it to mean something, I wanted him to have died for some great cause. If that cause meant that I had to crusade with Mulder again, so be it.  
  
"Okay," I said, "I guess this settles it. I'm going back to DC."

"Great. We can leave the day after tomorrow, so you can have a while to wrap things up. How are you getting your things down to DC?" he said, noticing all the boxes.

"I'm going to pay a moving company to do it, and I'll call up a DC storage company and reserve some room."

"Okay. The only thing is, we can't fly into DC."

"Why not?" I asked. I wasn't looking forward to a road trip with Mulder.

"Krycek has been keeping tabs on me, but I don't think he knows I'm out here. I don't want him to know I came to get you. As you can see, they don't want you on this project. You know too much, and you're too well qualified. So, they'll know what we're up to if either one of us boards a plane," he said. "I'd like to keep your reinstatement quiet for as long as possible."

"All right. We can drive in my car," I said.

"Okay. Um," he glanced at his watch, "it's early. Do you want to go out and grab something to eat?"

I did, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to get close to him again. This was just about work. This was just about avenging Rob's death. I nearly laughed out loud at how I was trying to be some kind of hero.

"No, I've got a bit of packing and whatnot to get done here," I said.

"Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine," I said. I could read his face now, and knew that he saw through me. That always frightened me about Mulder. As a profiler, he could tell what you were thinking all too often. He didn't let on to the fact that he knew I was trying to avoid him.

"All right. I'll be here at six in the morning the day after tomorrow. I'll take a cab, and we can leave from here." He stood and walked towards the door, so I followed him.

"Okay. See you then," I said, ushering him.

"Yeah. See you then."

Half way out the door, he turned and said, "Scully?" I turned and met his gaze. "I'm really sorry about Rob."

I offered him only a small smile and a nod of thanks, and then he was gone.

Although I wasn't quite sure I was ready for it, it was something that I felt I had to do. I owed it to Rob, and if Mulder was right, I'd be doing my part to stop colonization. I'd seen a lot, and I had grown to believe in many of his theories. Colonization was plausible to me, and if it was going to happen, how could I sit back idly and allow it? My personal feelings should not have mattered, but they were still there. I still feared that just maybe, I'd fall for him again. Two days later, I'd embark on yet another journey. This time, it'd take me back to my old life, but at the same time intertwine a new one.

I notified my family that I'd be leaving, and called my mother. I told her cryptic details, saying I was going back to the FBI to help on an unfinished project. That I couldn't stay in San Diego anymore because it reminded me of Rob. That I needed to stay with her just for a little while until I was able to find a place. Of course, she agreed, and offered to do whatever she could to help. I had tied up my loose ends, but I wasn't sure how to leave my life behind again.

Two days later, he showed up at my house and we just left.

Notes: Coming up next...Mulder and Scully road trippin' across the USA! Stay tuned for awkward car conversation, catching up, and angry confrontation in a hotel bar! Should be posted very soon, since this chapter had so little action. Thanks for all of the reviews, you guys rock!


	8. Chapter Seven

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CHAPTER SEVEN

"Here we are now, a sip of wine, a sip of water, someday maybe, maybe someday we'll be smarter...And I'm sorry that I'm such a mess, I drank all my money could get...I took everything you let me have, and I never loved you back."

--Jimmy Eat World, "If You Don't, Don't"

I drove the car, and Mulder sat next to me. I insisted on driving. If he drove, it would be far too close to old times. My little feet grew since he left, and they reached the pedals just fine on their own. We left my driveway in my car at about six thirty. We picked up a quick breakfast of bagels and coffee, and ate on the road. Little conversation was exchanged for quite some time, until he began to talk to me.

"So, did you ever miss the FBI out here? Or was being a doctor all your dad had said it would be?" he asked.

"I missed the FBI, yes, but being a doctor was satisfying, too. Satisfying in a different way. A more normal way."

"Yeah, I guess for a while you had that normal life you'd always dreamed of."

"I did," I said quietly.

"Three years is a long time," he said.

"Yes, it is. Wow. We're really old," I said, trying lighten the mood.

"At least you're not over the hill like I am, Scully," he said.

"Yeah, but February will come faster than I hope, I'm sure," I sighed. I did not want to turn forty. "So what's it like? Lose your vision and hearing, gain back problems?" I teased.

He laughed a bit and said, "You've aged with more grace than any woman on the planet. You don't look anywhere near your age," he said.

"Thanks," I blushed. "You don't look like a man fast approaching forty-two, either," I said.

"So how has everyone been back in DC?"

"Skinner's been fine," he said. It was sad that he was basically the only friend we had.

"And your mother?" I asked.

"She, um, passed away last winter," he said.

"I'm so sorry, Mulder," I said.

"Yeah, thanks. She'd become very sick, she had Paget's carcinoma. I guess she's in a better place now," he said. I could hear his suspicion. After all, he always suspected his mother had an affair with the Smoking Man...

"I'm sure she is," I reassured him.

"How's your mother?" he asked.

"Good, I suppose."

"And my favorite Scully of all, Bill Junior?" he laughed.

"Fine, annoying, but fine. His wife Tara had another child last year," I said.

The car fell silent. Children was always a bit of a touchy issue between us.

The ride continued on in this manner. Catching up, hollow conversation. We reminisced about some old times, listened to the radio, and managed to stretch small talk for a good number of hours until I was getting a bit too tired to drive. He took the wheel for a while, and I slept. About 16 hours into the trip, he grew tired, too. He had been up the whole time. I offered to take the wheel, but we ended up agreeing on playing it safe and stopping for the night.

The place wasn't half bad. It was clean and rather upscale, intended for business travelers. We said goodnight and separated to our respective rooms, and I was relieved. Being close to him was taking a toll on me. I was suddenly faced with smart, charming, funny, and handsome Fox Mulder. It's easy not to care about someone too much when they aren't around; when they come back into your life, it's not so easy.

Not quite ready to go to sleep yet, I decided to utilize the large bathtub in my room. I clipped my hair up and began to run the bath, and slipped into a bathrobe while I waited for it to fill. I ran my hand through the water, found it to be full enough and hot enough, and slid into the water. I sighed audibly and laid my head back, closing my eyes. In my home in San Diego, Rob and I had a jacuzzi tub put in our bathroom. We had the money, and he knew that I loved baths. This was no jacuzzi tub, but it was good enough for me.

A while later, I pulled myself out of the water, as it had grown lukewarm, and put my robe back on. I still felt restless. It was funny, I was exhausted behind the wheel, but faced with sleep, I wasn't ready for it. Story of my life, I suppose. I've always wanted things I couldn't have, and then once I got them...

Instead of putting on my robe, I had another idea.

I put my jeans and t-shirt back on, slipped on my shoes, and took my hair down. I fixed it a bit and touched up my makeup. Then, I grabbed by pocketbook and began to head for the hotel bar. What compelled me, I'm not exactly sure. The main thing was probably that I could really use a drink. When I moved out to San Diego, I went out more often, and I drank more often. It was a nice way to relax, sometimes. Of course, I never drank very much, even when I was out with Rob. I just wanted to step away from this Mulder issue. I wanted to feel like I wasn't with him again, and going to the bar was the exact way to do that. It was the last place we would have ever hung out. Maybe in a booth at a bar, but never at the bar, knocking back drinks.

The bar was large, and rather nice. I looked around and saw a few couples sitting in booths, picking at burgers or fries. There were quite a bit of people inside the restaurant area, but the bar had only a few patrons. A few lone men threw suggestive glances in my direction, but I ignored them. The room smelled like smoke, but I didn't really mind. Besides, I didn't come for the scenery, I came to get a drink and try to forget about Mulder. Maybe it wasn't exactly healthy to drink my worries concerning him away, but it would be effective.

Which was why I was annoyed to see that he was sitting at the bar. I saw him, the back of his head, holding a beer in his hand. He also had a basket of fries in front of him. I sighed, not wanting to go back to my room. I walked over to the bar and sat on the stool next to him. It took him a moment to look, but when he did, there was surprise written all over his face.

"Hey, Stranger," I found myself saying. I became angry with myself...the point of going was to get away from Mulder, and here I was talking to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked me.

"I adopted this crazy thing called a social life when I left DC," I said wryly.

"Let me buy you a drink," he said.

"Okay," I conceded. "Just one."

The bar tender walked over and I said, "Ketel One with a splash of cranberry, please."

Mulder seemed taken back by my readiness to spurt out an alcoholic beverage, right down to the brand of vodka.

"I didn't think you really drank," he said.

"Only on occasion," I replied.

"And what's the occasion?"

"Boredom, frustration, anger," I sighed.

"You miss him," he said quietly.

"Of course I do," I said.

The bartender, a young woman, returned. "Enjoy," she smiled.

We were silent as I took a sip of my drink. He tilted his beer bottle back, finishing it, and placed it on the bar. The bar tender looked in his direction, and he kindly asked her for another bottle. She nodded and got it for him. A little hungry, I stole some of his fries. I fidgeted restlessly, running my hand over the smooth, polished wood of the bar. I took another sip of my drink, and finally he turned to me.

"Scully, I think we should talk about...what happened between us," he said.

"I don't know, Mulder," I said.

"No, just hear me out. I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"Well then maybe you shouldn't have slept with me," I quipped, not thinking before I spoke. My tongue was more loose than usual thanks to the alcohol on a relatively empty stomach.

"Look, what I mean is, I know that after what happened, you were offended, and hurt, and..."

"Well, Mulder, usually when you sleep with a woman and then tell her you can't love her and never want to sleep with her again, she tends to be offended and just a tad bit hurt," I said, growing angry and defensive. Why did he have to do this to me?

"Scully, let's get one thing straight. I was a fool," he said.

I nodded in agreement, "You're right, you were."

"I was wrong," he continued. "I had said that I couldn't love you. That I was committed to too many other things...but I was committed to them with you. That was the part I didn't see. I was trying to protect you."

"Mulder, I gave you everything that night, and when we walked out on that beach, you told me you couldn't give me that."

"I didn't think I could. Right now, I can't give it to you... You already have it."

I sighed. This was insanity. I would not do this.

"So what am I supposed to do, Mulder? Am I just supposed to forget about everything that happened? Am I supposed to pretend I never left DC, that I never loved another man and that I never got engaged? That I never lost yet another person I got attached to? I loved Rob, and he's gone, and I'm trying to mourn his death in a healthy way, but here I am in a bar with you before we go out to chase fucking aliens!"

He said nothing.

I finished my drink, the cool liquid burning my throat. What a strange sensation alcohol has. Hot and cold all at once. Suddenly, I felt bad about yelling at him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I just, I wasn't ready to have this conversation yet," I said.

"It's okay, Scully. I understand," he said.

The alcohol had gone to my head a bit, and my voice sounded the way it always did when I'd been drinking, "I'm not ready to deal with the things you're telling me. I'm not ready to begin to accept the fact that you think you loved me all along, or whatever you're implying by saying that I have all of you. It's just too soon. It's too soon for me to analyze whatever it is that I may feel."

"I know. I just hope you know that when I said there were things I couldn't feel for you back then, when I said I couldn't love you... I was wrong."

"I have to go," I said, getting up. I couldn't be there. Whenever I drink, I get flirty, and I knew flirty was the last thing to be with Mulder at the time.

"Scully--"

"I'll see you in the morning. Thanks for the drink," I smiled weakly.

With that, I left him sitting there alone. I walked back to my hotel room, my steps sloppy with the buzz from my drink. I changed quickly into my pajamas, and fell back onto my bed. I tiredly closed my eyes, wishing that I'd wake up with a clearer mind. Wishing that maybe I could figure out what I wanted and what was right. That I would figure out how to feel.

Finally, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

NOTES: Sorry for the delay! Been busy and...well...I'm a lazy bum. Sorry! More soon.


	9. Chapter Eight

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CHAPTER EIGHT

"What I really wanna know, my baby, what I really wanna say is there's just one way back, and I'll make it. My soul will have to wait."

--Sublime, "Santeria"

I was confused when I woke up; I was not in my own bed, in my large, empty San Diego house. I was in a motel room, like the hundreds of motel rooms I've been in on X-Files cases before. Thought flooded back to me, and I sighed out loud. Mulder was back and I'd gone with him. In a few days I'd be back at the FBI, trying to forget my brief stint as a normal person in California.

That was when my conversation with Mulder last night came back to my mind. God, why did he have to play around with my emotions like this? First he sleeps with me, then he tells me he can't love me, then three years later he shows up and my new life falls apart, I lose the man who I thought I loved, and I leave with Mulder because I feel that's the only way to avenge my fiancé's death...and then he tells me he's always loved me?

I don't rise from the hotel bed, but lay there for some time thinking. Thinking about how hard it was to hate him when at one time he'd been the only person in my life. Thinking about those days we spent together...hitting baseballs in the park, dancing to Cher, laying in hospital beds, or sitting in the stiff chairs beside them.

He was there when I woke up in a hospital bed, having been missing for months. He had kept my cross, he'd worn it... He was there. When I had cancer, when I was dying, he was the one I turned to. He held me, he came and sat beside my bed while I slept. He was my comfort. He was willing to do anything to save me, and he did save me. The memories like those had been the hardest to leave behind. That night in the hospital in Pennsylvania, when Penny Northern died, when I was so sure I'd have the same fate...he was there. He was there, and he helped me to have the strength to continue, to fight the bleak outlook for my life and keep working. He was there.

One night had made all of those memories just that--memories. Things of the past. The feeling of knowing that the man who had shared those things with me had hurt me--it was the most terrible feeling I could imagine. A betrayal of our precious trust... Regardless of hurt feelings, it wasn't practical to think I could work with Mulder after bearing my heart to him, and having a one night fling. There was no way for us to have a normal working relationship. It was impossible, and to this day I wonder if he knew that. I wonder if he knew that by telling me he couldn't love me, that he was telling me to leave his life. I wonder if he knew I'd go, and I wondered if he had made that sacrifice for the X-Files. I used to wonder what had become of him and the X-Files. I used to wonder if he ever wondered about me. If he missed me at all, or if he was too consumed in his conspiracies and syndicates and plans for colonization to even consider me now that I was out his life.

And now he says he loved me? I didn't know what to do at that point, I wasn't sure about my feelings for him let alone his for me. I had loved Rob, and I hadn't seen Mulder for three years. He didn't think I'd swoon over his confession in the bar last night and follow him back to his room, did he? Maybe he'd merely forgotten what he had been missing these past three years, and once it was before him again, he thought he'd have another try at me? He'd slept with me just to do it once, and that was what kept me closed off from him that night in the bar--I was afraid he'd do it again. That he'd lie to me, and once again I'd love him, and once again he'd leave me.

I still trusted him, but not with my heart. I trusted him with my life in the field, a place I hadn't been in what felt like ages. I trusted him when it came to conspiracies, things like colonization... I didn't trust him with my feelings. I did once, and he broke that trust. I knew that it would be hard for me to talk to him, especially if he continued to press me about my feelings for him.

My plan had been to answer all remarks about what happened in a somewhat bitter manner. To remind him he made the choice to end things between us, and to remind him that this was indeed his fault. It wasn't exactly a nice thing to do, but it was the only defense mechanism I had against him. I lay there thinking about how I was once again at a major crossroads at my life. How many times I'd heard that--graduating high school, college, med school, Quantico... I was there again that night on the beach, and now once more as I was laying in that hotel bed, trying to decide what to do with myself.

He had made me leave because he thought he could only hurt me. Out of some skewed need to protect me, he made it impossible to stay with him. He didn't realize that what he was doing hurt me more than anything else. That he was still able to hurt me, even when he was living a separate life, thousands of miles away from me.

A knock at the door startled me, and I rose from my bed. I looked down at my pajamas, and then around the room for a robe. Not finding one, I sighed and figured it was probably Mulder, who had seen me in my pajamas plenty of times. I had wanted to keep a professional, or at least friendly distance between us, but didn't really feel this would be a breach of that. I opened the door, and light flooded the room around Mulder's figure.

I smiled at him and he said, "Mornin', Scully." 

"Good morning, Mulder, what's up?" I asked. 

"I, um, I went to get some coffee and breakfast, and I figured I'd get you some, too," he said, holding up a paper bag. 

"Thanks, um, come in," I said.

He came in and we sat at the small table and chairs in the room. I took out the contents of the bag. He'd gotten me a plain bagel with cream cheese. I looked at it and smiled a bit and he added, "Vegetable cream cheese. I know how you are with that health food stuff." I sighed a bit, and took a sip of the coffee. Light and sweet, just the way I like it. God, how did he remember these things? Of course, we did drink coffee together about five times a week in the office for about seven years, so I guess it's not too hard to forget.

He took a sip of his own coffee and said, "I just want to apologize for last night," he began. 

"You don't have to apologize," I said. I never liked it when Mulder got apologetic. It was very unbecoming. 

"No, I do... It was inconsiderate of me to bring up my own feelings when so much is going on with you. I mean, it shouldn't matter what I feel for you... I had just wanted you to know what those feelings were. I shouldn't have said anything so soon, I mean, right after you lost Rob and all, but it's just... You were there, right there for the first time in so many years and... I was being selfish. I'm sorry." 

I took a sip of my coffee and said, "Apology accepted, Mulder. Now, what do you have in mind as far as this conspiracy goes? I mean, how are we going to go about this?" 

"Well, first I figured you should get settled in at DC. You know, get your job back and everything. Once you've got an apartment and whatnot, we can get working. I've got a contact, a mole inside the Syndicate. He's the one who sent me the key to the base where I saw the colonization date. He said he'd help us find where they're working locally, so we can go in and get proof. Then, we can expose them. I wanted you with me on this, because I know it's important to you. My contact says they've got files...on everything. On the people that the government has abducted, working with the aliens... Files on you. On what they did to you. Besides, I knew I couldn't go at this alone, and you're the only person who I trust enough to have beside me in the field. I knew you wouldn't betray me. I know that you're on the right side." 

"You're sure this contact checks out? That it's not a set-up?" I ask, slightly suspicious. 

"That passed through my mind, but I don't see any reason why he'd show me the date, why he'd bring me this far..." 

"But how did Krycek find out about you?" I asked. 

"When I breached security at the base, I was on camera. I had blacked most of them out, but I missed one. The base knew I'd seen the colonization date, so they contacted Smoking Man on what to do with me." 

"And?" I asked. 

"And, somehow, I got out of that base alive, and old Smokey told Krycek to take care of it. So, he attacked me in an alley by my apartment. After that, the Gunmen checked for bugs, and I realized they'd been tapping my phone line. They'd heard all of my conversations with my contact, but they were unable to identify him because he disguised his voice. I still don't know who he is, but everything he's given me so far has worked. Krycek then must've followed me out here, or somehow had me surveilled, I don't know, and found out I was coming to get you. So he...he tried to frame me. So you wouldn't help me. He knew I couldn't take them down alone." 

"Well, now I'm here to save your butt in the field, like old times," I grinned. 

"It was tough working alone all these years," he said. 

"They never assigned you a new partner?" I asked. 

"Not one that lasted. Skinner knew there wasn't anyone I wanted to work with, and nobody wanted to work with me. Soon enough it made sense for them to let me tinker by myself. It was inexpensive for them, and I think the director figured I'd get nothing accomplished down there with a whole unit to myself... The X-Files was seemingly forgotten by everybody except myself for quite some time," he said. 

"So, what did you get done down there? You said you found answers..." I asked curiously. 

"Things about Samantha..." he trailed off, but my eyes goaded him to continue. "She's dead, Scully. She died in 1987... They took her, the Smoking Man and his group..." 

"I'm sorry, Mulder," I said quietly. 

"It's okay. I finally found closure, you know? I finally have an answer." 

"Yeah," I replied. 

We sat in silence for a long moment after that. I felt some closure, too, knowing what had happened. When I was working with Mulder, finding Samantha had become important to me, too. I knew how hard it must have been for him to find out that all this time, she's been dead. I was curious as to how he found out, or what had happened between when she disappeared and 1987, but the look in his eyes told me the wounds were raw and that I probably shouldn't ask. It was quite a while before he spoke again.

"Well, I'm gunna go back to my room and get my things together...um, I'd like to get back on the road soon." 

"Yeah, I'll just take a quick shower," I said. 

"Okay, great. Just come over to my room when you're ready." 

"Sure," I said.

He left, and I quietly finished my breakfast. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and blow dried my hair. I put on some makeup, grabbed my overnight bag, and walked out of the hotel room into the June air. It was warm, as the month was slowly drawing to a close. If things hadn't turned out the way they had, I'd be eagerly anticipating the wedding we'd planned for the last weekend in July. Of course, I'd never anticipated that I'd be here.

Mulder emerged from his room at my knock, and we returned the keys to the motel office. With that, we got back into the car and I got behind the wheel. We began driving, making idle chit-chat during the ride. Mulder fiddled with the radio every so often, which was always an irritating habit of his. We switched off at the wheel whenever one of us got tired, and of course made more overnight stops. The drive was long and conversation often ran very thin.

I tried to avoid talking about the past. I brought up other things instead. We talked about the plans to infiltrate the organization when we got to DC, we talked about the Gunmen and Skinner and how they were doing, we talked about music. When things looked like they were going to get too personal for my comfort, I would bring up politics and before Mulder was able to lure me into personal conversation, we'd be debating the Clinton administration's policies, or the election results of 2000. It was in this fashion that we made it to DC without another serious argument.

I knew that soon I'd be thrust into this life I'd given up three years ago, and I didn't know how to feel about that. Everything was going to change, and my feelings were becoming more and more conflicted. Here I was with Mulder, who in a way I wanted to open up to...he had been my best friend once, after all. In another way, a bigger way, I wanted to remain closed off from him. I'd let him in once, and it was disastrous. I couldn't stand for something like that to happen between us again. I had come back for the work, I reminded myself.

I could separate myself from my remaining feelings for Mulder. I could handle this. I could make it about revenge for what they did to Rob. I could make it about the X-Files. I would not let it be about Mulder...

I didn't find out how hard that would be until we were back at the Bureau, back in Washington...back in our old, familiar, and very much missed routine.


	10. Chapter Nine

****

CHAPTER NINE

"Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive...I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget."

--Brand New, "The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot"

We arrived in at my mother's house on a Saturday afternoon. He accompanied me inside, and had a slightly odd reunion with my mother. She always liked Mulder, but she did know the reason for my leaving the FBI three years back. He was obviously uneasy about this. We hadn't discussed her knowledge of what had happened, and she didn't let on to know anything more than that I was back to help out on a case.

Being the mother that she was, she insisted that Mulder stayed for lunch, after seeing that I wasn't overly uncomfortable around him. She had always worried about Mulder, and old habits die hard, I suppose. Once she felt we were thoroughly nourished, she cleared the table.

Mulder had brought in my bags. There were enough clothes and shoes and whatnot to tide me over for quite some time, while the rest of my things were in storage. I would start looking for an apartment right away, because although I love my mother, I can only stand to be babied for so long. On Monday, I was going in to the Hoover Building to meet with Skinner in the morning, and then over to Quantico to prove to them that I could still shoot a gun and that I was still aware of all the rules that I'd sit back and let Mulder break.

"Well, um, I'd better get going..." Mulder said.

"It was nice to see you, Fox," Mom replied.

"Yes, nice to see you, too. I'll see you Monday, Scully, at work. Just like old times, huh?"

"Yeah, Mulder, just like old times," I forced a smile.

No, Mulder, NOT like old times. I wish it could be. I didn't have the heart to tell him.

"See you then. Thanks for lunch, Mrs. Scully," he said.

"Anytime," she smiled, and he walked out the door.

We walked back inside the living room, and I collapsed onto the couch. She sat next to me. I knew that within moments, she'd press me on the issue. My mother and I were very close, even after I'd left for California. We spoke on the phone very often, and she'd often come visit me there, since Bill and Charlie were also nearby. When I had to explain to her why I had left DC, I remember the way I faltered when I tried to get the words out. She had been there for me, but was shocked as I was by what had happened. Now, sitting here, I felt like a did after I'd broken up with my first boyfriend at the end of high school. Sitting there, while she comforted me and told me he wasn't worth it--there were plenty of fish in the sea. Too bad she didn't realize I seemed to catch them and then kill them.

"So, how have you been?" she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Okay. It's been strange, with him suddenly here again," I said.

"Is he treating you well, Dana?" she asked.

"Of course. He, um, he says that he was wrong. That he loved me even then, even now..."

"And what have you said to that?" she asked.

"Nothing, really. I can't even begin to think about how I actually feel about him. Not with Rob, not with the thing we're being thrust into with the FBI... It's too much."

"I know, Dana, I know..." she said.

"Oh, Mom, I'm so afraid I'll fall for him again, but at the same time, I hate him," I admitted.

"Well, it'll take time to see how being with him again will affect you. You may realize that you still resent him for what happened...you may still hate him. You may realize with time that he does love you, and maybe he does. You may realize that you still love him. Maybe some time away from you let him think a bit and come to his senses. Lord knows what he was thinking not wanting to be with you..." she said.

"Maybe, Mom," I said.

We spent the evening catching up on things here and there, on Charlie and Bill, talking about little things. We talked about Rob, about Mulder, about all the fights that my mother and father had worked their way through. I loved my Mom, and we were always able to talk about things together, especially once I was an adult. It was comforting to take a break from the chaos and just be there with her, but once again I'd be taken out of the comfort and thrown right back into the madness.

The next morning was not as comforting as a mother's warm embrace. As I entered the Hoover Building, it felt a bit odd to have on a visitor's pass. I received some smiles from Agents who recognized me. It was then that I realized there must have been tons of rumors going around about why I left. People were always quick to gossip in the Hoover Building, and Mulder and I had often been the topic. It had been rumored that we were romantically involved for years--despite the fact that most of the Agents considered me rather unapproachable after the incident with Agent Colton on the Tooms case. Most of it never phased me, but mostly just amused me. I never did care much what other people thought of me, and if I did, I never would have made it this far in life. Still, I walked into the outer office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner with a nostalgic smile on my face that Monday morning.

Kimberly, his secretary, looked up at me with a smile. She'd always been very kind to Mulder and I. "Agent Scully! It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

"Call me Dana," I laughed, pointing to the visitor's pass. "I've been good, Kimberly, and you?"

"Good. I hear you may be joining us again," she said.

"Yeah, it looks like I will be."

"Well, we've all missed you. The Assistant Director is waiting for you, you can go right in. He's anxious to see you," she smiled.

"Thanks, Kimberly," I returned the smile and walked inside Skinner's office.

"Dana," he said, standing up. "It's so good to see you."

We shook hands, and I noticed the big smile on his face. Even if he was happy, this is Skinner we're talking about, so there was no embrace.

"Likewise, Sir," I said. The 'Sir' slipped, as I knew it would.

"How have you been?"

"Okay, and you?"

"Just fine, but missing one hell of an agent."

I smiled at the compliment and said, "I suppose Agent Mulder has filled you in on why I've returned?"

"Yes... I'm sorry about your fiancé, Scully. Agent Mulder and yourself seem to believe the remaining members of this syndicate, including Alex Krycek, are behind it?"

"Agent Mulder believes they wanted me to think he did it, to discredit him. So I wouldn't help him with his work."

"I'm aware of this conspiracy theory. After Mulder supposedly found this colonization date, he was approached by an informant. This informant told him he wouldn't be able to get the information alone, he'd need help--but not a large group of people. Mulder was told he'd need a confidante, in case something happened to him. Someone familiar with the work and the idea of colonization, as well as this syndicate. I'm not sure why he came to me with this information, but I believe it's because he trusts me--and I'd never betray that. He knew my help would be valuable, as someone to back the two of you up. When you eventually infiltrate the project, I'll be your backup."

"You're on board with all of this, Sir?"

"Yes, but it's not all an official FBI matter. Technically, you and Mulder are investigating a warehouse where you believe there is a group of men conducting experiments on abductees. There is nothing in writing about your fiancé's death, or colonization, or anything like that. The case will not fall into the hands of anyone except for you, Mulder, and me. We are keeping this low-key for all of our safety, at least at the moment. If enough information is gathered for us to go public, everything will change. Until that information, that proof, is gathered, we will keep this between us, save for a few people."

"What few people?" I asked.

A smile came to his face and he said, "Mulder's hacker friends--the Gunmen."

I matched his smile at that, and just then, we heard Kim on the intercom.

"Sir, Agent Mulder is here--should I send him in?"

He looked at me, as if seeking my approval. I nodded, and he said, "Yes, please."

Mulder stepped inside and joined us. He nodded at Skinner, and then turned to me with a smile. He took a seat beside me, and just for a moment, everything was as it had been on any given morning just a few years ago. I could almost hear Skinner yelling at us about our latest mishap, or wasted money, or something we'd done wrong.

"I assume you and Scully discussed the makeshift plans that are in place now?" Mulder asked.

"Yes, we have," Skinner said.

"So, I'll be getting my job back after some brief exams at Quantico this afternoon?" I asked.

"Yes, a physical, and then as long as you still remember some rules and can show them you're still an excellent shot, you'll be reinstated, as per my wishes. You should be there at two this afternoon." I glanced down at my watch, finding it to be only 9:45.

"Thank you so much, Sir," I said, with gratitude. He was making this much easier than expected.

"Thank you, Agent Scully, for coming back. The Bureau has missed you," he said. "I don't think there's anything else at the moment."

"Well, about the infiltration... I've been thinking, from the information my informant has given me, we should infiltrate the warehouse where the information is being kept in early August. A lot of the members will be out of the country. It should prove helpful," Mulder said.

"All right, I suppose that's all. Scully, good luck with your exams, though I know you'll be fine. Thanks for coming," he said.

I smiled, and Mulder and I quietly left the office.

"So," I began, walking down the hallway, "what's the current office gossip theory on why I'm back?"

"I don't indulge in that kind of--"

"C'mon, you have to have heard something, Mulder. About why I left, why I'm back..." I goaded.

"Well, the general assumption is you and I had a falling out. Some people believe it was about trust, others about work, others about..." he trailed off.

"Sex?" I asked bluntly.

He said nothing.

"Hit a little too close to home, Mulder?" I asked, my tone indifferent. If I could just keep pretending that I had no interest in him that way anymore... If I could just be indifferent, but still a little bitter...

"What are you trying to do, Scully?" he asked when we were alone on the elevator, a hint of accusation in his tone.

"What do you mean?" I replied. Had he figured me out?

"I mean what's with all the snappy retorts? Why can't you just put it behind you? Why won't you let yourself be my friend?"

I struggle to find the correct words. "You were my friend...that doesn't disappear. It just...changes. I can't just put what happened behind us. What happened--one night--changed my entire life. You were the catalyst to that, Mulder. When we were friends, we didn't have this kind of history hanging over us. I can't pretend that I never had a deep, emotional fall-out with you. I just can't pretend it didn't happen...that I wasn't hurt, that you weren't the one who hurt me. We can work together, and we can be friends, but from the moment you touched me that night, nothing has ever been the same. I can forgive you for what happened--I can come back and work with you and be pleasant. I can be your friend. I can forgive you," I repeated, "But I can't forget."

The doors of the elevator opened at the basement. I gave him a sad smile, and went to head for the parking garage. I expected him to go towards his office, but he came in my direction. I shot him a questioning glance, hoping he wasn't going to further pursue the issue.

"Um, I'm sorry. I should've realized. Anyway, I was going to stop by the Gunmen's...they've been trying to get into the computer files at the warehouse, but they're military protected. I was going to check some stuff out with them and see if their new spy equipment came, the stuff we'd be using for the infiltration. Do you wanna stop by with me?"

"Yeah, it'd be nice to see those guys. Do they know I'm in town?"

"Not yet," he said. "It'll be a nice surprise. Frohike will be thrilled."

I laughed a bit and said, "I'll meet you there."

I pulled up at the Gunmen's with Mulder just a minute or so behind me. He got out of his car, and we walked up to ring the buzzer outside their office. I had missed them. As annoying as they could be (especially when tricking me into going to Las Vegas...a trip with a few hours I can't seem to remember, for some reason...) they were good friends. I could picture them looking at the monitor to see who was outside.

"Yeah?" I heard Frohike through their intercom.

"Open up, FBI!" I yelled, knowing he'd have made his way to the monitor.

"Scully!" I heard the locks unlocking and soon saw good old Melvin Frohike at the door.

"Come in!"

I walked into the same familiar place I'd been so many times before. Langly and Byers smiled widely at us. They hadn't changed a bit--from Byers' suit down to Langly's hair and Ramones t-shirt.

"What are you doing back?" Byers asked.

"Well, I came to help Mulder out with this conspiracy he's stumbled upon..."

"I was hoping it was for me," Frohike quipped.

"So you're in on this with us?" Langly asked.

"Yeah, I've got quite some reason to be," I said.

"Yeah, we heard. I'm sorry," Byers said.

I nodded with a sad smile.

"If I could get my hands on that rat Krycek..." Frohike trailed off.

"I know the feeling," I sighed.

"Well, how've you been these past three years?" Byers asked me.

"Good. I was working as a doctor."

"What kind of doctor?" Frohike raised his eyebrows.

"Not a urologist, Frohike, nor a gynecologist, for that matter," Mulder cut in.

Frohike looked slightly forlorn.

I smiled a bit and said, "Pediatrician."

"Lucky little bastards," Frohike said.

"So how have you guys been?"

"Oh you know, cool..." Frohike said, trying to sound suave.

"Oh please, Frohike, you were never cool," Langly said.

"And you are, Lord Manhammer?"

"Anyone who plays D & D as well as I do is definitely cool."

"Yeah, really badass Langly," Mulder said.

"Hey, G-Man, watch it--you work for them, so you're not too cool yourself."

"I think I'm a bit cooler than you," Mulder argued.

"Oh yeah, Mulder, seducing all those phone sex operators has made you the coolest man I know," I deadpanned, raising my eyebrows.

"Hey, at least I'm not a science geek," he shot back.

"Smart is sexy," Frohike said.

"You're acting like children," Byers said.

"Shut up, Byers," came from mostly everyone in the room.

"Yeah, just 'cause you're the lamest out of all of us..." Langly said.

"Me? How am I lame?" Byers questioned.

"You're just...Byers... With your pressed suits... What isn't lame about you?"

"At least I'm not living in the wrong decade, Langly. Besides, I think I was the last of all of us to have a relationship with a female."

"Modeski?! Dude you just kissed her--and this spanned over what? Ten years?" Langly replied. "You think you would've gotten into her pa--"

"You know, I think I've heard enough about the secret sex lives of the Lone Gunmen," I said.

"You're not the only one," Mulder added. "So did you guys get the equipment yet?"

"Yupp, arrived yesterday," Langly said. He moved to the back of the room to grab some packages off of a shelf.

"Basically, it's everything you'll need to break in through their security. We've also got everything you need to reroute their security cameras, so they don't alert anybody. We'll take care of that for you, first, though, and then wait for you around the block in the van with Skinner. That is the preliminary plan, correct?"

"Yes, that's right," Mulder said. "It sounds good. Were you able to access the files?"

"No, we're good, but not that good... This is big time stuff. Sadly, as of right now, their Kung Fu beat our Kung Fu. They've got it set up so that you can only access the files from their computers, in that building, connected to their network. We haven't been able to bypass that yet," Langly said.

"I've never seen such high security before," Byers admitted. "You must've stumbled upon something very big."

"Oh, it's the biggest thing of all, Byers," Mulder said.

I sighed quietly. A typical Mulder response. I had missed those... I glanced down at my watch.

"Okay, guys I'm gunna get going. I've got some stuff to do before I head out to Quantico," I said.

"Yeah, I'd better get out of here, too. Uh, you guys wanna go for cheese steaks tonight?" Mulder asked.

"Sure. Would the scrumptious Agent Scully like to join us?" Frohike asked.

"No, thank you. Besides, I'm not Agent Scully yet. Gimme a couple of hours."

"You're still scrumptious," Frohike said quietly, eyebrows raised.

"Watch it, Melvin," I said, smiling. I glanced around the room and said, "Well, nice to see you all."

"You too," Byers said.

"You have no idea," Frohike grinned.

"Later," Langly said.

Mulder nodded a goodbye and walked beside me out the door. I had missed this life. I had missed running around with Mulder, and the Gunmen. I had missed just being near Mulder, but I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want to think about the way I feel when as we walked out to the car, he placed his hand on that familiar spot at the small of my back. I flinched a bit, because for a moment it was just too much like before--before he hurt me. The maelstrom of emotions that attacked me when I was near him was too much for me to contemplate, but luckily I didn't have to be there for long.

"Good luck at Quantico, Scully. Call me and let me know how it goes?"

"Sure," I said, as we parted ways. I turned around to walk towards my car when he called out to me.

"Scully?" I turned around. "Maybe you could join us for those cheese steaks."

I gave him a weak smile and said, "I don't think so, Mulder."

He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. I tried to look like I didn't want to join them.

"Talk to you later, then," he said.

"Yeah. Thanks," I said.

He shook his head in a gesture of 'don't mention it,' and turned back around. Then, once again, he was gone, and I was left alone with only my thoughts of how he made me feel. I pushed them aside. No, this was all about work. All about colonization. All about Rob. All about me. Not about Mulder. Besides, he was gone. I was alone again, anyway. There were more important things: Quantico, a new apartment... Mulder should've be the least of my concerns...

But then, my life never was the way it should've been.

****

NOTES: Sorry for the delay. I gave you a nice long one this time! More soon, hold tight! Scully muses on her past and present decisions, she goes out to dinner with Mulder, gets more info on this conspiracy, and tries to come to terms with losing Rob and their approaching would-be-wedding day. So hang on!


	11. Chapter Ten

****

CHAPTER TEN

"Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, And hidden in the public eye, Such a stellar monument to loneliness... Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes, Perfect make-up, but you're barely scraping by...But you're barely scraping by..."

--Dashboard Confessional, "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most"

I went home, and made myself something to eat before getting ready to head out to Quantico. I wasn't nervous about the exams there, assuming that I was older and wiser than the first time I passed them. Besides, although I wasn't gifted with Mulder's incredible memory, mine was pretty damn good, too. How to fire a gun isn't something you forget. I was one of the best shots in my class, and had only improved with time. The FBI rules and regulations exam I was going to take was mostly common sense, and something any FBI agent wouldn't easily forget.

I walked the halls of Quantico as a professional woman, but I felt anything but professional. I couldn't keep my mind on my work. All I could think about was how miserable I was, how much I wished Rob was never killed, how much I wished that I never slept with Mulder in the first place since that was what had started all of this... How confused I was about the way I was feeling about my reinstatement at the FBI, about this conspiracy, about the X-Files... About Mulder.

I aced the exam, both the gun test and the written test. I was regarded with kind congratulations, smiles, and a badge and weapon. I knew what they saw: the same professional, unemotional person who walked away three years ago. Now, everything I'd accomplished in those three years had been yanked away from me. I wasn't the same person, not on the inside, anyway. To them, I was still Special Agent Dana Scully...

I knew my reputation in the FBI... Between all the gossip, I was professional, unapproachable, stoic, and even cold... And in some way, I suppose all of it was a bit accurate. I had worked hard to get where I was in the FBI before I had left, and I expected to be treated that way. I didn't want guys coming after me, at least I didn't think so, because I wanted to be one of the guys in the field--just as good as the rest of them.

I'd never had any luck mixing my romantic life with my job, and sometimes I feel as if I could kick myself for making the same mistake with Mulder. My first foray into this area was with Daniel Waterston, my med school professor. We may not have been colleagues, but me being his student was much worse in many ways. Of course, there was a lot more at work in me when I let myself fall into that relationship... Daniel wasn't just a teacher or even a colleague in medicine, but also a married man. I didn't know that the first time he approached me after class, but did find out the first time we went out to dinner. I didn't stop the relationship, like I know I should have. In fact, when I finally left, I said it was for his wife, but it was really because he was so controlling. So from this experience, which sent me down an entirely different path for my career as well as my life, I decided I would never mix my profession with my lover.

Then came Jack Willis, my instructor at Quantico. Again, he was a teacher, but he was different than Daniel. Daniel was more controlling, and still acted like a teacher off hours. Jack, towards the end of our relationship, was no longer even my teacher, as I'd become an Agent. I loved Jack, and he loved me but things just couldn't work. The thing about dating someone from work is that people love to watch you. It reminded me of high school--everyone knew we were dating in the halls of Quantico, and they weren't afraid to speculate about it. That wasn't the major issue, though, I've never cared about what other people think of me... The issue was that work got in the way. Jack was so wrapped up in his cases... He didn't have time for me after his work, and mine began to accumulate as well... His precious work...

Mulder's precious cases... his precious truth... Why didn't I see it coming?

After Jack, I made a firmer promise to never get into a serious relationship with somebody from work. The hours were just too busy, and I'd never be able to have a family in such a hectic household... I adopted an air of professional aloofness from my colleagues, including Mulder for some time. I was so afraid to get my heart involved, because too many times I'd been hurt. Most of the major heartaches of my past had affected my entire life, not just my love life, and I wasn't ready to let go of the X-Files or Mulder yet. I wasn't ready to jump into something head first, not without checking how deep the water was. That was when I became regarded as the professional, and even stolid woman that people still consider me to be. I didn't mind, however, because I hadn't ended up heart broken. If I could just keep up that facade a little longer...

Of course, so much changed between Jack and Mulder that I thought maybe...just maybe we could be okay...

I know why I broke my promise to myself. I was in love with Mulder, at the very beginning (which was the end) of our "romantic" relationship, if you could call it that. I was overly optimistic, and I guess I just assumed that love would conquer it all, to use a trite cliché. Besides, Mulder was one of the few human beings I came into daily contact with, and having a family was no longer a concern. Nobody understood me any better than he could, so I let him in. I trusted him to be the success of all of my failures, and that was why it felt like such a betrayal when we walked out on the beach that night. I loved him. I was also _in_ love with him. Madly.

When Mulder fell apart, so did everything else. I remember years ago, when I was still in high school, my religion teacher told us something that relates to me now more than it did when she told me: you can never base your life on one human being. Once you center everything around that person, if he or she messes up, everything else will fall apart. If you base your life on a man, and work in the same place as him, and put all of you into your relationship with him, and have him be the only friend you have...when he fails, everything will fall apart. And as the teacher told us, everyone is destined to make a mistake somewhere, and if you balance everything on top of one person, everything is destined to collapse along with them.

At the time, I was seventeen and waiting impatiently for class to end, contemplating whether or not I would let Marcus get to third base with me. Besides, she ended the lecture by telling us that the only person we should center our lives around is Jesus, because he'll never fail, and quite frankly I'd heard enough about Jesus from a lifetime of Catholic schooling. At seventeen, I wasn't worried about who I was basing my life on... I had Mom and Dad to take care of all of that for me.

The advice had proven true. I had based my life on Mulder, and once he really messed up, with much more serious consequences than all of the things he'd messed up in the seven years we'd been working together, my life fell apart. When I started my new one in California, I made sure not to make the same mistake. I kept Rob away from my work, I made sure to have friends... When Rob died, I could have stayed in California and had a normal life. The mistake from my past, however, didn't want to let go. When someone you regarded as a mistake comes back and seems so wonderful... you rethink your opinion of them.

All that got me was my badge and my gun back. I still didn't know how I actually felt about Mulder, and I doubted I'd ever have the same kind of trust in him regarding my feelings again. I drove home from Quantico feeling foolish. Sure, I was able to analyze my past, but what good did that do? I was still stuck in the present, unable to go back and turn down Daniel's dinner offer; I couldn't go back and tell Jack that it just wouldn't work; I couldn't go back and tell Mulder 'no' that night. I couldn't. I didn't even know if I wanted to.

Things were awkward in the following days. The month of June had slipped away, and DC was in the midst of an early-July heat wave. I dealt with Mulder at work, but other than that I avoided him as much as possible. I could see that he was trying to recreate our old friendship, but I couldn't get my feelings straight.

Sometimes when I looked at him, I saw the Mulder out on the beach, the Mulder who hurt me... And I didn't want to be close to that person. Other times, I saw the Mulder who sat beside my hospital bed, who searched for the cure to my cancer, the Mulder who took me to the batting cages... And I wanted nothing more than to be his friend again. Still other times, when I found myself thinking that Mulder was attractive, or charming, or alluring, I'd remember Rob. I'd remember the dinner party where we met, the funeral where I said goodbye, our last phone call, casual and ordinary...

I was lost. I was trying not to care, I was trying to detach myself from everything around me. I'd done it before, it shouldn't have been so difficult, but it was. I was tired of being empty, I was tired of being lonely, I was tired of everything. I was tired of going over the intricate plans of our infiltration with Mulder. Camera in this corner. Armed guard at this entrance. Maintenance elevator here. Computer there. Files in those computers. Answers in those files.

I began to focus on the work more and more, however, because I told myself that as soon as I was done, I could leave again. I'd leave and never come back. I'd get as far away from DC and from California as I could. Maybe I'd go to Europe. Somewhere to forget all the pain. Somewhere that I could forget Mulder, forget Rob, forget everything. So I worked, despite the part of my brain that nagged at me... The part of me that knew I'd never stray too far. The part of me that knew I'd never forget.

Part of me was terrified at the thought. There was one question I was too afraid to ask. Just what was I feeling for Mulder? Beyond anger and resentment...there was a feeling that was familiar and very frightening.

In the midst of all of my inner-conflict, which I found even at the time to be rather melodramatic, I had finally found an apartment. I was grateful to get out of my mother's house. I loved my mother, but I knew that I needed to be alone. I needed to be on my own again, like before all of this happened. I needed my life back.

The apartment was beautiful. It was only a few blocks away from my old one, in Georgetown. I had contacted my former landlord, but there was nothing available in my former building. My new apartment was in the same neighborhood, and about the same size. Nice kitchen, a large, open, living room-dining room, big bathroom, and big master bedroom. I hired movers to bring in my furniture from storage, since money was one of the few things in my life that was not a problem. I had gotten quite a bit that Rob left me, and the insurance had more than taken care of things. The house proved to be very profitable, and beyond all of that I had my own money. Being a doctor pays well, as everyone knows.

Georgetown was surrounded by a bunch of colleges: Georgetown University, George Washington University, American University, and several others. The town was basically comprised of college kids, and government workers. It had a good nightlife, was right outside DC which meant close to work, and was an affluent area with a low crime rate. Still, sometimes when I was the oldest person out on the running paths, I found myself longing for the simpler days of college. I'd gone nearby to the University of Maryland for my undergraduate work, and I must say the school does live up to its reputation--there were plenty of parties.

The apartment came together in just a few days, which was very quick, considering that I was working pretty long days. The infiltration was going to be the first Saturday in August, and when I moved into the new apartment, it was mid-July. We had been working with Skinner to make sure everything was taken care of on paper...which meant tons of paperwork.

On top of the paperwork was learning from the Gunmen how to bypass the security in the building. We knew that a lot of the important information was kept filed on paper, but there was also information on computers that we could only access from inside. They had taught us the basics on hacking, and I could probably put it to good use at some online shopping websites. I wonder if I could bypass some security and score a nice suede jacket that I could never afford on a G-Woman's salary.

They equipped us with instructions on how to disable security so we could get inside, and once we were safe, the plan was to find the hard copies. Then, assuming we hadn't been noticed, we would try and disable computer security so that they could access the files from outside. If not, Langly was going to enter the building and try to get some things. After various arguments over who was the best equipped of the three Gunmen to be our backup, Langly won in rock-paper-scissors.

Everything was okay for a while. We were too busy with work to have any personal discussions. Despite Mulder's earlier attempts to get me to talk to him, he did seem to genuinely want me working with him on the infiltration. I was glad to have the distraction of paperwork, none of which was done by Mulder... Even if it was tedious, it was better than giving it to him to do, and then having to do it over for him. Mulder never could get things like that right, despite his inherent genius. Of course, despite his IQ, there were plenty of things Mulder never could get right.

Timing was one of those things. Mulder always had terrible timing. He'd crack a joke at the wrong moment, attempt to kiss me at the wrong moment (when I just happened to have an alien-virus carrying bee on my neck)... It was just never one of his talents. That hadn't changed after three years. The last weekend of July was approaching. I was trying to figure out how to deal with what would have been occurring that Saturday...my wedding. With all of the things that had been going on in DC, I hadn't really come to terms with what had happened. Rob was gone, and he wasn't coming back. It wasn't something I'd be able to detach myself from forever. I had grieved, yes, but I needed to accept that it really was over. Part of me still thought that this new part of my life was just temporary. That I'd be able to give it up and go home to Rob and the house and the kids at my office...

It was that Thursday before the weekend that we finished all of our planning. The infiltration was going to be the first Saturday in August, just over a week away. We were thrilled to have planned out everything on time, and to finally be organized for once. This was a big job, and not something we could easily pull off. We had just been talking down in the old basement office.

I had found a picture of the two of us out on an investigation on the office wall. It was a candid photo, somebody must have been finishing up a roll of film. I looked at myself, it must've been four years later that I held the photo in my hand. The Dana Scully in that picture never assumed things would turn out like this. She never thought the man standing beside her would break her heart.

"Anyway, my informant said that nobody at the facility suspects a thing. They seem to think you moved away from California, but also away from DC. In fact, he said he never would've picked up on it himself unless I told him. They think you're seeking solitude."

"Mulder, how come this guy hasn't ever met with you?" I asked.

"He's scared, Scully. He got mixed up in this by mistake. He was a wealthy businessman, and they propositioned him--"

"I know, you told me. I just worry. Trust no one, and all... Well, you're informants haven't always turned out to be so great."

"No, Scully, this guy, I'm sure about him. If I can trust him, I'm sure you can."

"Oh, I can, I was just curious, that's all. It's becoming a lot more real now that it's only about a week away."

"Yeah. It's nice to be finished with everything," he said. He noticed the picture in my hand, and then spoke again, "Hey, Scully, we should celebrate. Can I take you out to dinner? As partners, and friends, nothing more."

"I don't know, Mulder..."

"Come on, Scully, I'm not up to anything. I just want to celebrate the work. We'll have fun."

"Well..." I thought about it. Part of me wanted to claim back my friendship with Mulder. Part of me wanted to not see him at all. Still...part of me wanted what he never really gave me. "Fine. But the food better be good," I teased.

"Thanks, Scully. Um, I'll pick you up at six?" He asked.

"Sure. Nowhere too fancy, Mulder," I warned, getting up. "I don't feel like digging out a dress to wear."

"Okay, I promise, jeans are fine."

I placed the picture on the desk and said, "I'll see you at six."

"See you then," he said, as I walked out.

Timing. Right as I was heading for an emotional spiral. Right as I was about to descend into the most confusing few days of my life. My life was going to turn around in the next week or so, and by the morning of the infiltration, everything would be different. And after the infiltration... If I could go back now, there are things I would've told him, things I would've done, but... Well, I didn't think things would go in the direction that they did.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Because this took so long, I'm posting two chapters! Sorry for the delay, but with school and whatnot life has been hectic. Hold on tight, I see MSR in the distance. But alas, the angst is not yet finished. Thank you endlessly for the reviews, keep them coming!


	12. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Dig your ditch deep enough, to keep you clear of the sun. You've been hurt more than once, you don't think much of trust. Man, it takes a silly girl to lie about the dreams she has. Lord, it takes a lonely one to wish that she had never dreamt at all."

--Dashboard Confessional, "Carve Your Heart Out Yourself"

I felt foolish while I was getting ready to go out with Mulder. I had laid out a pair of jeans and a low cut t-shirt, subconsciously wanting to look good. It struck me when I was putting on my mascara that I had been thinking of this as a date somewhere in my brain. I told myself to stop it. Mulder never took me out on a date, and he never would. That was just the way it was, and the way it always had been. I sighed aloud in the empty apartment and finished my makeup.

As I was looking at myself in the mirror, I had this terrible vision of me in my wedding dress. Just for a second, I could see the veil, I could see Rob standing behind me... God, I would've been getting ready. I would've been getting all psyched about the party and making sure all the clothes were packed for our honeymoon to Hawaii. It was going to be so beautiful. Neither of us had ever been there before. After the accident, I canceled the tickets. I decided that I'd never go to Hawaii. It was going to be our place. I wouldn't go without him.

Again confused, thinking of Rob and Mulder, both unattainable in different ways, I waited for Mulder to show up. He arrived right on time, and when I heard the knock, I walked slowly out of my bedroom. It's just Mulder, I told myself. It's just a business celebration over dinner. Inside, it was so much more than that. I was trying to take back our friendship. I was trying to stop hating him. I was trying not to fall for him. Still, when I answered the door, I had that same feeling of simultaneous hatred and admiration that I always got when I saw him.

We quickly departed, making idle conversation during the drive. We ended up in the capitol district, at what appeared to be on the outside a nice pub. It was nice inside, too, with a bar and then some tables and booths. There was a band playing, and the bar was rather crowded, but there were a few booths left. The hostess sat us down, and a waitress brought us our menus and took our drink orders.

"Whatever happened to Casey's?" I asked, wondering why we hadn't gone there. We used to go out for dinner sometimes after work, friendly dinner, later on in our partnership. We stopped going to the place that we went to for my birthday one year when Pendrell was shot there. Casey's was a little more shady than that first place, but it suited us just fine.

"Can you believe that Casey sold it?" he asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah, took the money and moved down to Florida. Anyway, they turned it into this corny family restaurant. Tourist trap, with all that shit up on the walls and everything. Applebee's meets Planet Hollywood, only the food sucks."

"That's too bad," I said, meaning it. How things change...

"Yeah. That's when I found this place. It's a lot like Casey's, so I started coming here."

"It's nice," I said, looking around.

The waitress, a young woman with springy, brunette curls, returned with our drinks. She took our orders and left with a smile. Mulder took a swig of his beer, and I sipped a bit of my wine. When I put my glass down, he looked at me and smiled.

"So Scully, what was your favorite X-File?" he asked, the grin still on his face.

"My favorite X-File?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. The coolest experience, the most fun, the funniest..."

"Hmm," I thought, racking my brain. "Well, not that Flukeman thing," I joked. "I think, that it would have to be--and I hate to admit it--that it was the one with the Great Mutato. I think. I mean, after all, its not everyday that you investigate a mutant with two mouths and a Cher obsession, and then get to see Cher yourself. It was just such a cultural stereotype...the perfect satire of our work. What's yours?"

"I knew you were having fun," he said before answer my question. "As for mine, I'd have to say it was that one in the Falls at Arcadia."

Ohh, I was going to pick that one, but felt that saying my favorite X-File was the one where I was his wife was unwise.

"Had fun living the domestic, typical white picket fence life for a while?" I asked.

"Yeah, I suppose in the end I was the one who wanted to play house."

"I could do without the garbage monster, though. Not to mention that with community rules like those, you're a little too sloppy for me to live with," I said.

"Oh, so that's why you left," he joked, but it fell flat. There was an awkward silence, so I forced a little laugh at his attempt. God, why did he have to bring it up? Why couldn't he just let me think of the old times and not remember how we fell apart?

"So..." he said, reaching for a new topic. "You look great tonight, Scully."

"Uh, thanks," I offered, dreading this path of conversation.

"How do you like the new apartment?"

"It's lovely. It's strange, when I moved in with Rob, it was difficult to get used to living in a house again. Now, though, it was easy to slip right into an apartment." Right back into routine. Right back into Mulder...

"Is it just as easy to be a G-Woman again?"

"Yeah, you don't forget the important stuff. It was nice to be back doing this. I liked medicine, but they professions are different, you know?" I said. He nodded. "It was nice to have a 'normal' life with Rob...but I guess it was nice having a paranormal life, too."

Dinner passed slowly. I was sullen, thinking of Rob and Mulder and all of the mixed up feelings that I was experiencing. Guilt, remorse, lust, hate, admiration... I didn't know which was the strongest. I didn't know what anything meant anymore. My mind kept contradicting itself, so I tried to shut up for most of the conversation. The band that was playing wasn't half bad, and every once in a while I would sing along half-heartedly to a song I knew, and Mulder would tease me.

"You haven't sang for me since that Florida incident," he said. "I spent the rest of my life wishing it would rain sleeping bags," again, the personal joke fell flat, so he quickly added, "It's rained stranger things on us, after all. Frogs..."

I smiled at that, wishing he would stop his innuendo. I didn't want to have to think of him like that anymore. I just wanted to move on. I wanted to finish this project, save the world, and move far far away. I knew it wouldn't happen, somewhere inside I knew that I was most likely stuck in DC, but I hadn't accepted it yet. Still, I can't deny having quite the mental image when he brought up that sleeping bags comment.

By the time we had finished dinner, it was dark outside. We walked out of the pub, and I began to start for the car. He stopped, however, and I noticed that he was looking up at the stars. At least, what you could see in the city. It was a very clear night, because we could many stars despite our location. He looked at me, a small smile on his face.

"It's such a beautiful night," he said.

"Yeah, it is," I agreed.

"Want to go for a walk?"

Did I? No, I wanted to go home. I felt an obligation to be grieving... God, why now? Then, a part of me wanted to go. To talk to him, to tell him how I felt. To laugh and joke with him...to remember what we had before I foolishly let my heart get involved...

"I don't know, Mulder," I said.

"C'mon, it's early. Just a walk. We could go over the plans, and just catch up."

"We caught up over dinner," I said.

"We didn't discuss the plans. I don't have a life, Scully, humor me. A quick walk, that's all I ask. Before I go home to my couch and my videos," he grinned.

"Okay. A quick walk." Since it was such a beautiful night and all...

We walked up towards the Mall, and as we approached the Lincoln Monument, I remembered the time we had stood beside the reflecting pool, after Antarctica. I always felt that I underutilized all the things that were near me when I lived in DC. It was rare that I ever admired the monuments or the architecture. I gazed at them now, appreciating them anew. You never really care about the things like that until you don't have them anymore. While I was here, I thought of them as something beautiful, but needless--I wasn't a tourist. I'd seen them once and that was the end of it. Here I was, staring at them again, maybe to appreciate them, or maybe to keep my mind off of Mulder.

We went over the plans again, still walking idly along the Potomac. Finally, the plans were all laid out and he had no further excuse to keep me with him. Still, I couldn't bring myself to say goodnight. The silence was deafening, and I was reminded of that night out on the beach all those months ago. That night that I wanted more than anything to run to him, kiss him, hold him...but instead he made me walk away. I was feeling that again. That I wanted to be with him, near him, but because of that one night, I'd never have what I wanted. Now here I was, so close to the day I would've been married, with Mulder on my mind. I let a soft sigh escape my lips.

It took me a moment to realize where we ended up. We came to a bench by the river. Not a bench, our bench. We used to meet her sometimes when we were split up as partners. Most notably was during that Flukeman case. The spot reminded me of another time when had been torn apart. What was more painful to me about this was that now we had done this to ourselves. It wasn't the Smoking Man or Krycek or Skinner who caused the chasm between us, it was our own behavior.

"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked, sounding terribly serious.

"I'm just tired, Mulder," I lied.

"No, not now, I mean... What's wrong? You've been oddly quiet all night. Do you need to talk about something?"

When have I ever wanted to talk about what's wrong? "No, Mulder, I don't."

"Scully, you can tell me--"

"What do you think, Mulder? Of course something is wrong! My fiancé is dead, and I'm a week away from chasing after monsters I don't even believe in, all in the name of I don't know what, and you're wining and dining me!" I found myself yelling.

He was silent.

Embarrassed at my lack of self-control (a rare instance) I said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just..." I finally just decided to tell him, "Rob and I, we were supposed to get married this weekend. I guess I've just been thinking about him, and I don't know, being back here, with you, like this, it's all just a little much."

"I'm sorry, Scu--"

"Stop! Just stop it! Stop apologizing! It's all you've done since you came back into my life. I get it, you're sorry. I know you are. So am I. That doesn't change anything. That doesn't change what's happened. That doesn't change that I just don't know what to feel. That doesn't change the fact that I shouldn't feel this way about you." I regret the words the moment I speak them, knowing I've said too much.

"Feel what way, Scully?"

Cornered, knowing that he was on to me...knowing that he knew I was so close to falling for him, I said, "Forget it. I'm sorry, Mulder, I should go home. I didn't mean to ruin the evening." I began walking away.

"Scully, I'm your ride," he said smugly.

Although it had slipped my mind, it wouldn't stop me. "I can catch a cab."

"Don't be ridiculous," he began to chase after me. "Let me drive you home. We don't have to talk about it, whatever, you can sit there quietly, just let me be a gentleman and drive you home."

That was how the drive went. Uncomfortable silence. I caught my eyes in the rear view mirror, so cold... It killed me inside to be cold to him, when all I wanted was the warm myself with his fiery passion. It seemed as if I had to be totally closed off to Mulder, or totally open with him. He was a man of no comfortable in-betweens, and he made everything hurt so damn much. So why, then, did I feel like I was falling in love with him?

No, that wasn't how I felt. I KNEW that I always had been in love with him. I fell years ago, and I never got back up. Only someone you love can make you hurt as much as Mulder was hurting me. He didn't mean to hurt me, and I knew that I was hurting him, too. Regardless of intention, he was the man who was capable of making me fall apart. Only Mulder could do that me.

Only someone I love.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those eagerly awaiting MSR...Patience, young grasshoppers. The infiltration draws near and tensions come to a peak...but not just yet. Coming soon, a wedding day that was never meant to be, Scully's past, present, and future all blur into one with only one constant (his name starts with an M and ends with an ulder) and of course...a nice long chapter full of MSR!! Coming very soon.


	13. Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

"If I could, I would shrink myself, sink through your skin to your blood cells, remove whatever makes you hurt, but I am too weak to be your cure." 

--Brand New, "Guernica"

I successfully tried to keep away from Mulder as much as possible that week. The following Saturday would be the night of the infiltration, and my mind needed to be on the task at hand. Going in, getting whatever the hell was in there--whatever could incriminate Krycek and the rest of those bastards, and getting out. Getting away.

The Saturday prior to that one, however, I was thinking of anything but work. I woke up, knowing the day it was. Imagining myself in the wedding dress I'd picked out just before I got that call... Imagining my brothers, Bill and Charlie, and their family in the church. Imagining Charlie's daughter, Sarah, tossing flowers in a little pink dress. Imagining Rob's nephew, Joseph, as the little ring bearer. Imagining my Mom, pride in her eyes as her daughter walked down the aisle. Imagining Rob, standing next to me, saying "I do," and his lips grazing my own...

A tear slipped from my eye, and I tried to forget about it, about everything. I made myself breakfast, but I barely ate it. I cut up the French toast, which is my favorite, and pushed it around on the plate, but in the end only two or three pieces made it into my mouth. I ended up tossing it into the garbage. Instead, I pulled out a gallon of double chocolate chip ice cream. That, I could eat.

I sat on the couch, thinking about how hard I was going to run tomorrow to work the ice cream off. Maybe I'd take a new route. Right through a bad area in DC, and maybe somebody would just fucking shoot me and I wouldn't have to worry about aliens and dead fiancés and sexy partners anymore. I laughed at myself and turned the television on. I flipped the channels. Saturday morning cartoons, Trading Spaces, infomercials for those vacuum things that let you freeze dinner and eat it a year later, a Lifetime movie, which is an old guilty pleasure of mine but--no, I couldn't watch that. The day that I got the knock at the door about Rob's accident, I had been sitting with the same flavor of ice cream, watching a Lifetime movie. Oh, god, I flipped the channel rapidly, and found an I Love Lucy marathon. I sat there, the epitome of pathetic, watching TV and eating ice cream for quite some time.

I finished the ice cream, which to my credit was not full when I began it that morning, and stayed there in my pajamas. I idly found myself fingering my engagement ring, and was surprised to realize that I had been crying. It had been months since Rob died, and I spent much of that time grieving, but still none of it made any sense to me. I didn't understand what to do with myself.

I felt an immense amount of guilt when he died, and I had been dealing with it just fine. Still, in so many moments I hated myself for it. I hated that just before I lost him, I began to doubt my feelings for him. This man who had promised to love and cherish me--who essentially died because of me, had given me his heart. Had I given him mine? Or did Mulder have it all along? Or maybe nobody ever had it...maybe I was still just too afraid to love anyone after what happened on the beach.

I had been wearing the engagement ring since Rob's death, but sometimes it was difficult for me. I would catch a glimpse of it in the middle of typing up something in the office, and my heart would sink. I would see Mulder staring at, trying not to be noticed. I would find myself wondering if he ever thought about how I was dealing with it. If he ever realized how much harder he made it for me to deal with it.

The ring was beautiful. It was perfect, actually, the kind of ring a woman never really expects to get. He had enough money to pay for it, and when we moved in together and there were two large paychecks coming into the house, we had even more money to spend. Still, we were not extravagant people by any means. The ring, however, well, he went all out for the ring. He wanted to make me happy, he always did. That was what was so wonderful about Rob--he was the most selfless man I'd ever met. I'd spent my life building relationships with men who were very selfish: Daniel Waterston, Jack Willis, Mulder...all career minded men, looking out only for what they really wanted in the end. Rob was so set on making me happy...it was amazing.

It was from Tiffany's, I remember seeing the blue box as he got down on one knee to propose. I had been expecting it, to be honest, we'd talked about our future before. That night, however, I didn't suspect a thing. We were eating dinner in this lovely place, The Lamont Street Grill, about a week after our one year anniversary. Quite frankly, I'd been expecting the question a week ago, but didn't put too much thought into it.

The Lamont Street Grill was very original. It had this great beach town atmosphere, kind of laid back but elegant all at once. We ate outside on the "patio," which wasn't quite a patio. It wasn't outdoors, so to speak, just on the edge of the building, enclosed only by big glass windows, and on one end, a brick wall with this perfect fireplace. There were palm trees and plants and flowers everywhere, and it was wonderfully beautiful and natural. It was still early, sunset, actually, and you could see the sun going down over the ocean out the windows.

"Where do you want to go after this?" I asked him casually, when the meal was finished.

"Everywhere."

I gave him the standard Scully raised eyebrow, which I've been doing since I was about five, and he grinned.

"I want to go everywhere on the earth with you, Dana Scully, and I don't ever want to go anywhere without you."

"Rob..." I smiled, and closed my eyes for just a moment, knowing, waiting, God I can still hear his voice sometimes...

He stood up from his chair, and walked over towards me. He dropped to one knee on the patio floor, and all the other couples in the restaurant turned to us, but my world shrank to just the two of us. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the ring box. He took the ring from inside, and took my hand in his.

"Dana Scully, I love you more than anything. You've made the last year the most amazing year of my life. You've made me a better person, you've made me whole. I want to be with you forever, I want to wake up next to you on lazy Sunday mornings, argue with you over whether or not the way the towels are hung up in the bathroom is important"--I was always neurotic about stuff like that--"I want all of it. I want everything about the two of us, forever. I want you to be my wife. Dana, will you marry me?"

Eyes full of tears, smiling like an idiot, I said, "Yes, yes, of course, yes..."

Speechless. He slid the ring on my finger, and the room applauded, like a scene straight from a Julia Roberts movie. I looked down at the ring with a feeling of contentment I'd never known before.

I looked down on that ring months later, on the day we were supposed to be wed. It was set in platinum, with this beautiful diamond in the center. I looked at it, lost in the memory of days when things were simpler. When my feelings were so much less complex. It was our wedding day, but we never would be married. I would never get to slip the cool platinum of the matching wedding band around my finger... It was time to let go.

I slowly rose from the couch, tears in my eyes, and walked into my new bedroom. Opening my jewelry case, I extracted a silver necklace chain, the one I kept in case the one my cross was on broke. I ran my finger around the ring again, and slowly slipped it off. I placed it on the chain, and clasped it around my neck. It fell next to my cross, and though I was never a fan of wearing more than one necklace at once--I felt it looked too gaudy most of the time--this seemed right.

Another loop around my neck, to sit by the cross that had meant so much. So many of my memories associated with that cross reminded me of Mulder, but now there was a plain reminder of Rob to accompany that. Another part of my past around my neck, just above my heart. Another albatross. Another part of me I never really understood. Another part of me that I lost before I could figure it out.

I finally managed to shower and get dressed, to try and function for a while. I felt free after thinking about Rob, after remembering the things I hadn't let myself think of. I had been trying to forget about it, but that's not what I needed to do. There was a difference between forgetting and letting go, and I had found it. I had to realize that I'd never be with Rob again, not in this lifetime, but that didn't mean I had to forget I had ever been with him. I could remember that year of my life, that year where everything was so perfect, but I could never have it back.

The afternoon went about quietly. My mother called, and we had a long talk. I told her about how I had finally let go in a way, and it was good to talk to someone about it. I was sitting on the couch, some time later, reading a book when I heard a knock at my door. I knew it would be Mulder--who else would come by? I sighed out loud, hoping that I was ready to deal with all of this.

I opened the door to see him standing there, a hand behind his back.

"Hi, Mulder," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Hey, Scully, I um, just came by to give you these," he said, pulling his hand out from behind his back and offering me a dozen white roses.

"Mulder..."

"For what today should have been. To not let them claim it. I know it was important to you. I know I can't really ease the pain, but, I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate what you're doing. I know what you're going through to do it."

Holding the roses I said, "Thank you, Mulder. That means a lot to me."

He offered a sheepish smile and added, "I also wanted to make sure you weren't upset over our dinner."

"No, Mulder, I'm not. I was just overwhelmed. All the feelings involved in all of this...it's a little hard to deal with it sometimes."

"Yeah... I know it's hard, especially when it comes down to how you're supposed to feel. I just wanted to let you know that I made the biggest mistake of my life worrying about how I was supposed to feel instead of feeling what I DID feel. Please, Scully, don't ever do the same thing."

I closed my eyes for a moment. He hadn't forgotten what I had said to him, then...

"Thank you, Mulder," I offered.

"So, then, I'll, um, see you Monday."

"Yeah, Monday," I said, forcing a small smile.

He left and I closed the door. I carried the roses into the kitchen, and took out a vase for them. I put them out on the table, a sad smile on my lips. I closed my eyes, and I could see the church we'd picked out, adorned with the flower arrangements I'd had picked out in my mind since I was just a kid. I could see my dress, I could see everything. When I opened my eyes, it was all gone. All just let go, its existence marked only by the roses on the table and the circlet of platinum around my neck.

Rob was gone and there was only Mulder. Maybe there always was Mulder, and I was just refusing to see him.

The past was gone, and in its wake was the present and future. The infiltration in one week, and after that, anything. The roads lay open, but I knew I wouldn't take any of them. In my heart, I knew I wouldn't leave again. I never really had. I would always end up back here, back to the person I really was. Maybe, back to Mulder. I said goodbye to the past that afternoon, and apprehensively awaited the future.

What was I supposed to feel? What did I feel? It would all come together so quickly, but I was beginning to see from that point that I felt something for Mulder I simply could not deny. He was on to me, and it was time to put aside what I was supposed to feel and face what was really going on in my heart.

NOTES: Thanks for all the kind reviews! They thrill me ;-) Next chapter, Scully and Mulder spend an evening in his apartment going over the infiltration plans, and well, they get to talking...all you shippers will want to tune in. :-D And then the infiltration comes (bum bum bum!) and there's even more drama... So hold on tight, guys! Thank you so much for reading--you all rock!


	14. Chapter Thirteen

****

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"So you left to find a better reason than the one we're living for,  
and it's not that nursery mouth I came back for,  
and it's not the way you're stretched out on the floor,  
'cause I've broke through all your windows and I've rammed through all your doors,  
and who am I to ask you to lick my sores?  
You should know that it's true, I came for you, for you, I came for you, but you did not need my urgency.  
I came for you, for you, I came for you, you're life was one long emergency."

--Bruce Springsteen, "For You"

He had said: "I know it's hard, especially when it comes down to how you're supposed to feel. I just wanted to let you know that I made the biggest mistake of my life worrying about how I was supposed to feel instead of feeling what I DID feel. Please, Scully, don't ever do the same thing."

Mulder's remark stayed on my mind all week. I kept busy, which was a very easy task, in preparing for our infiltration. We had received blue prints of the warehouse from the Gunmen, including the locations of filing systems and computer databases. Our strategy was to go in quickly, get what we could, and get out before getting caught.

Mulder's informant, whom we had not yet met, continued to give us instructions. He told us the easiest way to access the facility, and also said that he would make sure nobody was on guard that night. He had explained to Mulder that they usually kept round the clock security, but that he would stay late in his office there, and create a diversion keep the guards from the information area. As the blueprints had revealed, there were offices on the higher floors of the large building, which was disguised as storage space. The ground floor was completely empty, and one floor below the ground housed a large area of filing systems and computers, where the information was kept. What went on in the offices was relatively unknown, but we assumed it was accounting and paperwork for the Syndicate--after all, somebody had to take care of those matters.

I was still curious about the informant, who disguised his voice over the phone. He had given us nothing but an alias, "Travis." Mulder suspected that he was a public official, possibly a politician, and that was why he was reluctant to reveal his identity. Mulder wanted my trust on this, and he had it. He may not have had my trust in every respect, but I trusted him in the field. We were taking necessary precautions, anyway, so I tried not to worry too much about it. I resolved it in my mind by reminding myself that it was too late to back out at that point, so worrying wouldn't do anything.

When my mind wasn't on work, it was on my partner. I was trying to sort things out, especially after what he said. The words rang in my ear each day that week: "I made the biggest mistake of my life worrying about how I was supposed to feel instead of feeling what I did feel." Was that what I was doing? Was I doing the same thing he had, when he cut short what could have been between us?

For the first time, I asked myself the question without running away from it, or without giving myself a circular, figurative answer. Did I love Mulder? When it came down to it, I was almost positive that I did. I was harboring a great deal of resentment towards him, and I was still hurt by what he did, but I loved him. I began to realize that maybe that's what love is. Love hurts, but that's the price you pay to experience it. For me, love had always hurt. I just wanted it to stop hurting. I just wanted everything to work out nicely. I wanted it to be my turn to have a fairy tale. But I knew that was silly. Whenever I thought things like this, I was always reminded of that movie "Moonstruck" with Cher, when her fiancée's brother tells her that love ruins everything. That we were meant to be love the wrong people and break our hearts. That all of us, and love, were not perfect.

Love had never been the problem between Mulder and I. It was never an issue; there was always something greater between us: trust. When we started, neither of us trusted one another. Over the years, our trust grew from just being work-related to being rather personal. Then, it came down to me trusting him with my heart. He had betrayed that trust, and it had become difficult for me to give it to him again.

So as this swirled through my mind, the week dragged on. Between my anticipation of the infiltration, and my growing realization of the feelings I had for Mulder, I was nearly driving myself insane. I knew that I should be concentrating on work, since getting caught up in these emotional matters before our plan had been carried out was dangerous. Still, that thought brought me back to what Mulder had told me... I should stop feeling the way I am "supposed" to, and start feeling the way I was feeling inside. I was never one who cared what others thought of me, but I suppose in this subconscious way I had.

Beyond the mental exhaustion, I was also physically tired. We were going to enter the facility on Saturday night--well, technically, one AM Sunday morning. To be alert, we'd been altering our sleeping schedules for a few days leading up to it. We were working bizarre hours, but Skinner was in on it so nobody was too suspicious. The exhaustion of trying to train my body to be awake when all it wanted to do was sleep was beginning to get to me.

Friday night, we were meeting at his apartment to go over the plans one last time. Then, Saturday we'd get some sleep, prepare ourselves, and wait for the night. I arrived at his door, and everything was relatively normal. Neither of us brought up the words we had exchanged, but part of me wanted him to. We meticulously went over the plan, making sure everything was perfect. Finally, we came down to the end of the plans. It was quiet, and he fumbled around with his papers for a moment.

"Um, would you like a glass of wine, Scully?" he asked.

"No, thank you," I said. I had decided on a no-drinking-at-Mulder's-house rule. The only thing that was stopping me from kissing Mulder was the rational, bitter part of my brain. I wasn't going to drink that away.

"Well, I uh, I guess we're done, then..." he trailed off. I knew that he wanted me to stay.

For some reason, I didn't get up to leave. There was a long silence until he spoke again.

"What I said to you the other day, Scully... I meant it. Ever since you began to tell me whatever you were going to that night we went out for dinner, I've been thinking. I just hope that you realize how big of a mistake censoring your feelings can be. It changed both of our lives once, I don't want it to happen again."

Quietly, my voice almost a whisper I said, "So what do you want me to say, Mulder? That I've been hiding it since I came back? That I have the feelings for you that you hid that night three years ago? I don't know what you want to hear from me. I don't know what to tell you." I was getting frustrated at this point.

"I want the truth, that's all," he said.

"The truth? The truth is that I loved you once, Mulder, and that doesn't disappear, but it just...changes. Of course I still have feelings for you, you were my best friend. I do have feelings for you, but I just, I can't just live on my feelings anymore. It's gotten me into trouble too many times. I just feel like I'm betraying Rob, endangering myself... I just shouldn't feel the way I do."

Feelings. I still couldn't bring myself to define what those feelings were.

"You're doing it again, Scully. You're letting the world around you define how you should feel. Why do you think I said goodbye to you that night? Because I THOUGHT that I SHOULD care more about my work and my sister than YOU. I was wrong, and I paid for it. I THOUGHT you deserved someone who could devote themselves to you--and you did, and you found that person, but both of us know that it didn't work, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But we don't know what we SHOULD feel, Scully, we can't. We can only know what we DO feel. Are you going to let another opportunity for us just slip away, because you THINK that feeling anything for me MIGHT be wrong? I loved you years ago, and I still do. I was just lost. I got lost in what I was SUPPOSED to feel, and you're doing the same thing. Stop pretending that you don't feel the way you do. Follow your heart, Scully, not your brain. Please--just this once. I made mistakes, but I want to make up for them. I was being selfish then, about my own desires in the X-Files, my own searches. Not anymore...now I want to be everything you need."

By the end of his little speech, his voice had become a few decibels louder. It rang out with passion and power; the thick, rich, sound filled the entire apartment. I formulated my response, still unwilling to confess any kinds of feelings for him. It wasn't practical, it wasn't logical, it was insane.  
  
"You seem so sure of what I need, Mulder. What do you expect me to do? Forget everything and tell you I'm in love with you? I can't do that Mulder, I'm sorry. I can't tell you that I need you. I can't tell you about my feelings, I can't. I can't just suddenly trust you with that, not after last time. I've already told you too much. I can't say what you need me to."

He reached out, to me, his hand catching my chin in his grip. He turned my face to his, and our eyes met. Mulder always had such an intense, piercing gaze, and I tried my hardest to match it. No, no, I will not fall for him, I will not do this to myself again. I chanted it over and over, a mantra in my mind. He was wrong. I DO have to ignore what I'm feeling for him. I CAN'T just give in to the way I feel. I can't...I can't... After a tense moment, he spoke.

"I don't need you to say anything."

His grip lightened, and his hand moved up to caress my cheek. Slowly, so slowly, he moved closer and closer to me. Finally, his lips were just centimeters from mine, and I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. That part of my brain--the part he told me to ignore--was screaming: I shouldn't kiss him, I shouldn't... If I kiss him, I'll never get away. I'll never leave. Oh God...maybe I don't want to leave.

Our lips touched, and my eyes closed. The kiss was intimate, but not hungry or passionate. He was holding back. Mulder was just as afraid as I was, and I knew it. I knew that he was scared to push me into anything. I knew that he's scared to lose me again. Still, it couldn't match my fear that I myself would be lost in his kiss. I knew that there was little hope for me as he pulled away.  
  
"I don't need you to tell me anything, Scully. If you can look me in the eye, and tell me there's nothing between us... If you can tell me that you didn't feel anything in that kiss, then I'll forget about this. If you honestly don't have those feelings for me, then we'll finish our work and I'll never talk to you about any of this again. But if you can't tell me that, if you can't tell me there's nothing there, then I can't leave this behind."

I closed my eyes. I couldn't tell him there wasn't anything between us. I couldn't. There IS something between us, and--God, help me--I wanted it to exist. I want to be with him. Even after all of the pain, and all of the hurt. That was love. That's why I still want to be with him, after everything we've been through. In that moment, faced with it, I was terrified. I couldn't vocalize it to him. I couldn't speak the words. I couldn't tell him that I love him. I had told him that once before, and I couldn't go through that pain again. I couldn't let him see that vulnerable part of me.

So I kissed him. I kissed him hard, unleashing all of the passion he had suppressed earlier. Apparently, that was enough assurance for Mulder, because he kissed me back with the same ferocity. His hands tangled in the hair at the base of my neck, and for just a moment, everything seemed right. I couldn't admit it, couldn't speak it aloud, but I loved. I loved him, and I hoped more than anything that he really did love me.

Our kiss was broken momentarily, and he moved his lips up my cheek to my ear. I could feel his breath, hot and moist, as he whispered, "Trust me, Scully."

Trust. The magic word. I felt all of my bitterness slowly unravel as he kissed me again. It was hard for me to trust him, and I knew that he wasn't expecting a response. I couldn't give him one. If this was just another fling for him, I didn't think I could handle it. But in his passion, in his honest baring of his soul, I had come to believe in him again. I trusted that he really was trying to be what I needed. I believed that he wanted to make me happy. I believed that our split those years ago didn't mean that we didn't love each other. I did love Mulder, I always had in some part of me. That didn't change what I had with Rob, but it didn't mean I couldn't have something with Mulder again. Love was a funny thing like that. Sometimes you were able to set it aside, and never think about it. You were able to almost forget it, but it was still there. My love for Mulder had been tested over and over again, but it was still there. I just wasn't ready to admit it, not to him. I couldn't face the pain of loving someone, and not receiving it in return all over again.

I remembered the first time I had told him I loved him. We had come together as a result of his desperation to hold on to me. In the end, that led to losing me. Now, as I thought back, I realized that he had wanted to be with me for selfish reasons. Then, it was all about the fact that I wouldn't leave him, that I would be there to take care of him and work beside him. That was the difference. Last time, he wanted to claim me. This time, it was about our feelings, not about shock or fear of losing one another. It was about love. This time, he wanted to make me happy. It was about trying to find that happiness, that completion.

So, we searched for those perfect ideals. We found them hidden beneath clothes and bed sheets; we found them in our minds and in our hearts. He found happiness in the soft curve of my neck, and marked its place with soft kisses. I found completion in the feel of his lips against my own, in his warm embrace. We found what we had been looking for in one another.

"I love you, Dana Scully," he whispered into my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I couldn't say the words back. All I could remember was the time I had spoken them to him, and how he didn't return them. I knew the pain that he had caused me in that gesture, and I didn't want to do the same to him, but I couldn't bring myself to say I loved him. I couldn't bring myself to tear my mind away from the simple pleasure of being with him, in mind and body. I was too busy reveling in feeling loved again, by the one person whose love had been so hard to attain, to worry about letting him know I loved him back.

For just a second, I saw a flash of disappointment on his face when I failed to speak those words to him. The words were more intimate for me than the act, which I had separated from feeling three years ago. He hid his disappointment quickly; I knew that he didn't expect things to be perfect overnight. We both knew that this relationship was going to be something we needed to work at. We both knew that we had probably jumped back in too fast. But both of us were impatient, and there we were, quite possibly not ready for our intimacy, but in a different way than last time.

We were laying beside one another some time later, not able to sleep despite the late hour. It was then that I realized we'd be infiltrating the Sydicate's building in about twenty four hours. I chastised myself for letting my feelings get in the way of work, but decided that I had found the best way to stay awake and adjust my sleep schedule.

"This time tomorrow, we're gunna pretty busy, G-Woman," he said, mirroring my own thoughts. He was holding me, and we were facing one another eye to eye.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Better keep to our schedule, and stay up for a while."

"We can catch up," he said.

"How many times are we going to do that?" I asked.

"Well, now that you're willing to actually open up to me again, we can do it once more," he smiled.

"I hope I wasn't overly closed-off before, Mulder, but I also hope you realize that I can't just suddenly bare my soul to you overnight. It doesn't work that way."

"I know, I understand. I don't expect anything from you, Scully. You've already given me so much. It's so good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," I said, and for the first time that I was in DC, I meant it.

We held one another in silence for a long time. I felt wonderful, all of a sudden. Mulder loved me, and this time, I believed him. I loved him too, I knew it now, and I knew it then, but I couldn't say it. I was close a few times, but I just wasn't there yet. Still, I was finally able to admit that he meant something to me. I was able to move on. He had challenged me to forgive and forget. I had forgiven him, and I was beginning to forget about his past indiscretions. Maybe not forget as much as accept them and move on. As I had figured out in grieving for Rob, there is a difference between forgetting and moving on.

"Did you ever read that book From Outer Space by Jose Chung?" he asked, interrupting my thought with the seemingly tangential comment.

"Of course," I smiled.

"We look like idiots."

"No, you look like an idiot. What brings this topic of discussion on?"

"At the time he released it, I refused to read it. I was opposed to it because it made our work look less than professional. But a few months ago, just before I came out to California, I saw it sitting on the sale rack in the book store and I couldn't resist. We've been reduced to a dollar ninety-nine."

We were quiet for a while, until I asked, "What made you finally read it?"

"I ran out of good pornography so--"

I cut him off with a playful smack on his arm.

"I don't know, I had been thinking. Thinking about you. About us, about old times, and I just wanted to get them back for a little while, you know?" he asked.

"Yeah," I smiled.

"But, Chung's version of events wasn't exactly the reality I was looking for. Though I loved the way he changed our names," he smiled. "It was interesting. It reminded me of you. Little things like that kept me sane since you left. But having you here, Scully...it is the reality I was looking for. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's real."

"I'm flattered," I said quietly, not sure what else to tell him.

We were quiet for some time, until he asked me another seemingly random question.

"Hey Scully, remember when we played baseball together?"

"How could I forget, Mulder?" I asked, and added, "Hips before hands."

"You said you never hit a baseball before. Is that really true?"

Laughing, I said, "This is what comes to your mind after sex? Books and baseball?"

"No, you come to my mind," he grinned. "All our old memories. I want to know these things about you. I always had this impression of little Dana Scully as a tomboy, and I don't know...these are the things I've thought about while you were gone. Why you never hit a baseball, your first kiss, what you were like in college...When we were together, I never bothered to ask. I want to do things right this time. I want to know everything about you."

I smiled and said, "The truth is, I hit a baseball, well actually, I swung at it anyway, once. I was playing with my brothers and all the kids on our block in San Diego. I must of been nine or ten years old, I guess. Bill Junior was pitching," I enjoyed the face he made when I said Bill's name, "and I was up. He kept pitching these fastballs at me, and I wasn't able to hit them. He kept teasing me, in front of all the kids, and they all laughed. I finally gave up, and while Bill was looking the other way, gloating to his buddies, I threw the ball at him with all my might. I hit him in the back of the head and almost knocked him out. I guess I made a better pitcher," I finished, evoking a laugh from Mulder, which I added to with a chuckle of my own.

"So that was the end of baseball?"

"Oh yeah. I got punished for throwing the ball at Bill's head, because he had this huge lump for days, but I think my Dad was kind of proud of me for sticking up for myself. We both ended up punished, and Bill wouldn't let go of it for years. God, he still teases me about it whenever we go to Charlie's son's little league games."

"I knew there had to be a story behind it," Mulder smiled, "and it is no surprise that Bill Junior is the antagonist."

"He always was. When I started dating, he used to threaten all the guys who I'd go out with. My high school boyfriend, Marcus, was terrified of him."

"Well, Bill Junior's habits haven't changed," Mulder said, "although he doesn't scare me."

"It's nice to talk like this," I smiled.

"Yeah. It's nice to have answers to all of these questions."

"Why did you wonder so much? I mean, why did you never wonder before I left?"

"I always thought I'd have more time, you know? After you left, there wasn't a day I did not think of you... You were still part of my life when you were gone. I have to be honest, I came to see you in California not just for selfless reasons. Don't get me wrong--colonization is the most important issue of the moment. But...beyond that, the underlying reason, was for you. I missed you, Scully, so much. As my partner. As my best friend. As all the things I never gave you the chance to be. That's a big part of why I came. It was selfish, but now that you're back, I want that to be over. I want to be fair, I want to stop being such a jerk."

"Well, we can work on that," I said with a smile. "I'm flattered. I'm glad you came to get me."

"Even after what it led to?" he asked.

"Oh, Mulder, you can't blame yourself. I've lost so many people, and the one thing I've learned is that blaming yourself--or anyone else--doesn't make the pain go away. I tried to find someone to blame, but it doesn't work. Sometimes you just have to let go. Move on. So, yes, I am glad you came. Even if it led to all that it did. After all, it led to this, too." I said, my voice the softest and most sentimental it had been in a long time.

"And of course, anything that leads to a naked Scully is wonderful," he said, pulling me closer to him. "Unless it's a naked Bill Scully Junior. Then it's just wrong."

I laughed and said, "Well this naked Scully is glad you think so, and hopes that we will be doing things that lead to more naked Dana Scully in the future."

He placed a kiss on my lips quickly and said, "You have no idea how much I've missed joking around with you like this. You may have been back for the past few weeks, but I'm just now getting to see this part of you again. We're finally getting it back, Scully. Let's do it right this time," he said.

"Yeah," I smiled back at him.

The right way. That would probably include being honest with him, but I wasn't ready to tell him I loved him. Still, I was happy for the first time in what felt like ages. We laid there together, and in some time we fell asleep. Finally, I had found what I was looking for. He loved me. I was never exactly love-starved or anything, but when it came to Mulder... I had tried to so hard with him, I had wanted him to love me back, and he didn't back then. Now, he finally did, and it was seemingly perfect.

I just wish I could've have the courage to tell him I loved him. I wish that I had the courage to tell him EVERYTHING--but it was always one of my shortcomings. A shortcoming I'd come to greatly regret just hours later...when a new day dawned and a new obstacle presented itself.

NOTES: What, you thought just because it got shippy the angst was over? grin You should know me better than that by now! Sorry this took so long to post--but it's almost done! I've been inundated with schoolwork as of late, but expect more fairly soon. Hold on tight, the infiltration is near...bum bum bum...

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	15. Chapter Fourteen

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"If dreams came true, oh wouldn't that be nice? But this ain't no dream we're living through tonight. Girl, you want it, you take it, you pay the price...to prove it all night, prove it all night girl and call the bluff. Prove it all night, prove it all night and girl, I prove it all night for your love."

--Bruce Springsteen, "Prove It All Night"

I didn't stir until about twelve noon, a result of our bizarre sleeping hazards. Normally, sleeping in on the weekend is a privilege I deny myself, busy with errands that I don't have time for during the week. I was startled to realize that I wasn't at home, and to feel Mulder's presence in the bed. It took my sleep-dulled mind a moment to remember the events of the previous night, and a small smile came to my lips. I knew that I was stuck in the post-sex haze, the happiness that lasts for a few hours before the panic sets in. At least, that was how it went the last time...

I then began to deliberate what my options were. I could never skip out on the relationship, I'd made a commitment to him last night. Even if he was able to walk away from that once, I wouldn't be able to--no matter how fierce my pride was. Mulder gave me no reason to want to leave, at least not yet. Hopefully, this time it would be the way I had hoped for last time--that our working relationship and partnership would not suffer with the addition of a romantic relationship.

Mulder gave me the impression last night that he wanted an actual romantic relationship. That, I was excited about. I'd never shared with Mulder quiet candlelit dinners or lazy Sunday mornings, and I wondered how they would compare to those spent with the few other lovers I shared long term relationships with. Although I may come off as someone who enjoys being alone, I always much preferred living with someone, whether it be a roommate or a lover. I had forgotten what that was like for a long time before I left DC, and living alone all over again hadn't been easy for me. Maybe that, too, would change sometime, but I knew I couldn't plunge into living with Mulder anytime soon. At least it appeared I'd be spending fewer evenings alone.

I noticed that the rain was falling. I frowned in bed, hoping it wasn't a sign about the infiltration planned for late that night. Not so much a sign as an annoyance, actually. I didn't want to be storming warehouses soaking wet. I didn't want to wake Mulder, whom I hadn't known to sleep so soundly in ages. Maybe all of the insomnia was pent up sexual frustration, although I think over the years he had few qualms about relieving that frustration himself. I guess a partner other than his own hand was able to put him to sleep for once. Smiling wryly at my own innuendo, I decided to get out of bed.

Standing up, I began searching for something to wear. Finally, I threw on one of Mulder's button down shirts, opting that it would be more comfy than my clothing from the previous night, which was strewn around the room. It was actually quite clean for Mulder's place, so I wasn't about to complain. I smiled softly at his sleeping form, which hadn't roused when I left the bed. I padded from his bedroom into the kitchen, hoping for once to find something edible there.

I opened the refrigerator to find that Mulder had his seduction planned as meticulously as our infiltration: there was plenty to eat for breakfast in his kitchen for the first time in ages. I made myself a bowl of Special K (he apparently had figured out my cereal preference), and cut up some fresh strawberries I found in his fridge. I almost went into cardiac arrest finding fresh fruit in his kitchen, and began to wonder if the old Mulder had been abducted by the Syndicate. I smiled softly, knowing it was Mulder trying to woo me back again. Of course, had the apartment been bereft of food like old times, I would've stayed just the same.

It was quite some time later that I heard him stirring in the bedroom. Somewhat worried, he called out my name. "Scully? Scully!" his voice was hoarse with sleep, and I smiled at his fear that I had left him. If he would have noticed my scattered clothing, I'm sure he could have pieced together that I wouldn't have left naked.

"I'm inside," I called out, my mouth full of food. "Breakfast," I managed to swallow the cereal, "Didn't want to wake you."

He walked in a few seconds later, in nothing but his boxers. His hair was mussed from his sleep, and I remembered why he was so hard to resist when he shot me that goofy smile of his.

My mouth full again, I asked, "Did I worry you?"

"Didn't Mrs. Scully teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" he teased.

"I always was a rebel. Mrs. Scully taught her daughter not to do a lot of things, many of which you were not objecting to last night," I teased back.

He came up behind me, nuzzling my neck and said, "And so many of those things involve your mouth--"

"Watch it, you," I warned jokingly.

He laughed a little bit and took a seat at the table.

"There's food in the apartment, Mulder, and you actually slept last night...I'm seeing a whole new side of you," I grinned.

"Well, I wasn't going to let you starve. And as for sleep, all those years as an insomniac can be blamed on an empty bed," he raised his eyebrows.

"Want me to make you some breakfast?" I asked.

"Is this Homemaker Scully?" he teased. "I could get used to that."

"Well, don't. She only comes out once in a while when I'm in a good mood."

"Would she be willing to get me a bowl of cereal while I go brush my teeth?"

"Sure," I smiled, and he walked out of the room.  
  
I poured the bowl of cereal, reveling in a guilty pleasure of mine: domesticity. I chopped up some more strawberries, and the scent of the sweet fruit filled the room. In little moments like this, I felt like a normal person again. If I closed my eyes, I felt seventeen all over again, care freely helping Mom prepare a meal, lit by the warm California sun. I used to dream of settling down with a handsome man, and I always enjoyed babysitting Charlie, as if he was my own little kid. I suppose that's why domesticity is such a guilty pleasure of mine. There would be nothing Mulder could do to make me admit that I liked to play housewife every once in a while, and it wasn't often that I did get the urge, but it was still something I enjoyed now and then. Even when I was with Rob, he did the majority of the cooking because, frankly, he was better at it. Sometimes it was nice to let go of the independent career woman thing and just be a woman for a while.

Mulder walked back in, still clad just in his boxers, looking refreshed. Digging a spoon into his cereal, he smiled and said, "That shirt looks much better on you than on me."

Looking down at his shirt that I was wearing, I replied, "As long as you don't start wearing my clothes, we'll be fine."

"Scully, I swear, it's strictly a comfort thing..." he joked, earning a roll of my eyes.

We were quiet for some time, and finally I said, "We've got a big day today..."

"Yeah, Scully, we do. Getting nervous?"

"Nah, I don't bother getting nervous for these things. Either way, I'm going in, so I might as well not waste time being nervous about it. If something happens, well, it'll happen."

"We're taking the greatest safety precautions, of course. I'm more nervous about what we're going to find."

"Why? Aren't you already sure of it?"

"I am, but... I guess I'm afraid it'll be something massive, something we can't stop."

"Well, we've handled some pretty heavy stuff, Mulder," I offered quietly.

"I know," he sighed, "I'm sure everything will work out. Hopefully we can get proof big enough to bring to the papers, but it all depends. We have to figure out how deep this thing goes. It could go to the president. This information could cause mass-hysteria, but I... I need to know."

"Me too, Mulder. I need to know what was so important that they killed Rob to deter me from looking for it. I just wish we had more help."

We were quiet for a long time then, and I quietly thought over the possibilities in my mind. I knew we had planned it perfectly--the Gunmen helping us bypass security, most of the Syndicate was out of the country, we had an informant inside... If everything went to plan, we'd get in, access the computers, and try to download the files. We had headsets wired to the Gunmen to help us with hacking, but the informant would be calling in an hour or so with a password and directions for us. Langly had assured us that even if the guy was bluffing, once we were in, they could break into the system from the van if we just disabled security. They also assured us it'd be an easy enough task for us to follow if they dictated it to us, and even had us practice in their offices. If none of that worked, we were to check the hard copies they had one file. We were bringing in cameras to take pictures, and we had covered all of our bases concerning bullet proof vests and weaponry...

My train of though was interrupted when Mulder caught my gaze and said, "Whatever happens tonight, Scully, I want you to know that I love you. I always have."

I froze, my breath caught in my throat. I just looked at him for a long time, trying to find the words to tell him but I couldn't. I couldn't do it, couldn't say it. I began to worry that maybe I didn't feel it, but I dismissed the thought quickly. I could feel it, but I was so afraid... It would make me vulnerable again, and... I couldn't say it. It was never easy for me to say. It was hard, so hard, to tell him three years ago, and when he didn't return it...it became even harder.

I had been able to trust him with my body, and why wouldn't I? The man worked wonders with it. That had been much less difficult than giving him my trust in everything else. I always had a bit of a trust issue, because I hadn't had the healthiest relationships in the past. Almost every man I dated had hurt me, so to begin with it had been difficult to trust Mulder. Then when he broke my heart, it became even more difficult.

I responded to his confession only with a silent smile and little nod. I was angry with myself. Damnit, I knew that I loved him. What the hell was wrong with me? I would have to get over this silly fear of showing him my feelings before I could have a real relationship with him. I was able to show him I loved him, so why couldn't I just say it? Shouldn't that have been the simple part? God, why did one night with him all those years ago have to make me so afraid? Why was I still harboring resentment, when he had promised that he changed?

I was always so strong, but at that moment, my strength had made me weak. I wasn't strong enough to tell him. That moment, like so many others, is one I often wish I could revisit. If only I knew then what I know now, if only I had any idea what would happen in such a short time... Well, just like with Rob, I would have told him exactly how I felt. Again, like on that last night I was with Rob, I was too weak. My strength, that aloofness, that wall that Mulder had inadvertently built around my heart, had stopped me.

And in hours, all of that would come crumbling down.

NOTES: Sorry this took forever, but I've been swamped with work. Expect the next chapter tomorrow maybe, really soon--I swear this time! It's guna be big, so hold on. Thanks a million to everyone who is reading--your reviews make my day. And they've been so busy and tedious lately that making my day is not an easy task. Thanks again, especially to those of you who have stuck around since the beginning and given so much feedback. We're almost done guys, but don't worry, I've got many more stories up my sleeve...g


	16. Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Better ask questions before you shoot, deceit and betrayals bitter fruit. It's hard to swallow come time to pay, that taste on your tongue don't easily slip away." 

--Bruce Springsteen, "Lonesome Day"

Mulder and I went over the plans for the millionth time, knowing we'd have to do it again when we met up with the Gunmen and Skinner. Skinner had arranged another van of Agents as back-up, under the premise of a possible drug sting. Time was winding down, and we were having some coffee to refresh ourselves. I'd sent him on a Starbucks run, and was enjoying a caramel machiatto, which would keep me awake for hours.

The informant was scheduled to call us at four o'clock in the afternoon, and like clockwork, the phone rang. Mulder picked it up, and I sat by, anxiously awaiting the password to the computer mainframe. Instead of seeing Mulder write anything down, however, I only witnessed a one-sided conversation consisting of "uh-huh," "yes," "okay, fine," "thanks," and "I understand." When he hung up, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Well?" I asked.

"He said that he can't give me anything over the unsecured line. He thinks that the Syndicate is suspecting him of something, but he's sure that they don't know about tonight. He told me that after everyone leaves the building, he'll go downstairs and leave the password on a slip of paper, beneath the keyboard of the main computer. Then, he'll distract security. He said he's going to try to enter the basement level once we're done there, and that he'd help us out once he takes care of everything else."

I was still weary of the whole informant thing, wishing we could have met him in person. I knew from experience, though, that sometimes informants were politicians or higher up members of these organizations, and couldn't risk being found out. If Mulder trusted this guy, I had no reason not to.

Maybe he saw my concern, because he said, "Don't worry about the informant. We can get by the password even if he doesn't come through. We'll be fine."

"Of course, Mulder. I wasn't worried, I trust your judgment."

He softly kissed my lips, and said, "You know I'd never let you down in the field. If something goes wrong, I've always got your back."

"And I've got yours," I smiled.

After a quiet moment, he suggested that we studied the blueprints, mapping out possible escapes. The rest of the day was uneventful, and at about ten o'clock at night, we started getting ready. Skinner had insisted we wore bullet proof vests, and I had to agree that we'd be safer that way. I was never a big fan of bulky Kevlar: bullets sometimes went through them anyway, and as a woman with a small frame I felt that they hindered my maneuverability. Mulder was pleased though, eternally worried about losing me in the line of battle. My only consolation was that he had to run around with the heavy armor on as well. Besides, safety first, even though the plan didn't seem very risky.

Finally, we were dressed in black, complete with the vests under our shirts. I pulled my hair back, knowing that otherwise it would get in the way. I excused myself for a moment, walked into Mulder's bedroom, and said my prayers. I guess it was just that Catholic instinct to pray before a nerve-wracking event--final exams, job interviews, infiltrations of government conspiracies...

I walked back into the living room area, and picked up my guns off of the table. I placed one in the holster at my hip, and the smaller one in my ankle holster.

Mulder watched, looked me up and down and said with a grin, "Law enforcement has never looked so good, G-Woman."

"C'mon, Mulder," I sighed, "We should head over to the Gunmen's place."

The thick air of a summer's evening enveloped us as we stood outside the offices of the Gunmen. Finally they let us in, where we went over the plans yet again. The back-up agents were already staked out three blocks from the warehouse. The Gunmen and Skinner would park their van, which looked more equipped for stoners than FBI agents, two blocks from the warehouse. Mulder and I would proceed on foot to the building, enter at a west entrance used for night maintenance staff with a keycard that the Gunmen had created, and then find the basement level.

The Gunmen gave us our electronic equipment. The headsets were extremely discreet, tiny earpieces that wired down into our shirts, to a small black box secured to the bullet-proof vests on our backs. That allowed us to hear them, and it also picked up anything we said. The keycards, and some other equipment to use in case we came across unexpected security, was placed in a small, black backpack that Mulder wore. In that bag was a camera headset as well, which was less discreet, but would prove useful if we needed help hacking.

By eleven fifteen, everything was set.

Skinner gave us a rather sentimental (for him) "be careful" speech, warning us not to excessively jeopardize our lives for this information beyond what our plan had called for. There was a sort of quiet, nervous tension in the room. I wasn't afraid, I'd done similar things so many times in the past. I knew how it would go. I'd feel mostly nothing for a while, and as we got closer to the building, my adrenaline would kick in. I'd become excited, and once we got inside, I'd be deadly serious and professional. That was the only way I knew how to get a job like this done.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, we finally wrapped up at the Gunmen's and got in the van. The ride was silent once again. It was a fairly lengthy drive, and I spent it contemplating over my new reality: just months ago I was planning a wedding. Now I was planning to expose a conspiracy. I felt Mulder's hand find mine, and he held on. I looked down at our intertwined fingers, and then into his eyes. He offered only a silent smile, which I returned. Some time later, I'd lost track at that point, the van came to a stop.

"Okay, guys, you know where to go from here. Remember, we'll be able to hear you if you need anything," Langly said.

"Good luck, both of you," Byers added.

"Yeah, give 'em hell, you two. This is our revenge for everything they've done to you," Frohike said.

Skinner looked at us in his typical stoic fashion and said, "Good luck, Agents. Be careful. If you need back-up, alert us immediately." 

"Yes, Sir, thank you," I said.

And we were off. Mulder and I slipped out of the van, into the warm August night. We briskly walked to the warehouse, not wanting to expend any of our much-needed energy in a run. We were quiet for the majority of the walk, but as the building came into sight, we heard Langly in our ear pieces.

"I'm into the system, guys. All I need is for you to enter the password from the mainframe, or to bypass it, and we should be able to download the files either here or there. The only requirement is that the password goes in from that specific computer."

"All right, guys, good work," I said.

"Okay, we're going to go silent again. We can still hear you guys if you need us."

We made it to the building, and I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. As we silently went up a flight of stairs that led to the agreed entrance, I felt Mulder's eyes on me. We stopped at the door which had "MANTENIENCE" written on it, and he reached for the keycard the Gunmen had fabricated. When he held it in his hand, he stopped and met my gaze.

His voice was barely a whisper, so only I could hear it. "I love you."

Now or never, G-Woman, I found myself thinking. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him... Tomorrow. Yes, I'll tell him after all of this. When my emotions are more in check. When I'm sure he's in for the long haul this time. Yeah, tomorrow. His promises of love still weren't enough for me to spill out the contents of my soul to him, not again. I was vaguely aware that I was making his mistake from the past, but my "strength"--my fear--was stopping me from correcting that mistake.

At my soft smile, he swiped the keycard. A green light came on, and the door slid open. Nobody would be suspicious, as the night janitors entered through this door every night. They'd assume that we were one of the many people who came in to do the chores of the Syndicate, unaware of whose messes we were cleaning.

The door led to a dark corridor, lined with cement walls. That let us out into a maintenance room, as planned. It was empty, as "Travis" had assured us the area would be. He had arranged for the custodial staff of the previous shift to be held up, painting an upstairs office. We quickly slipped out of the room, thankful to get away from the smell of ammonia and other assorted cleaning materials.

We then found ourselves on the empty, decoy first floor. It was vast, and rather dark, unused even during the day. There was a catwalk around the entire floor, which seemed to be one giant room, filled with absolutely nothing. At the far right was a small, inconspicuous door. According to our blueprints from Travis, it would lead to another area where the elevator and stairs were.

Sure enough, we used the keycard to gain access, and found the elevator and stairwell. Once we entered that room, things looked less abandoned and more professional. The elevator doors were stainless steel, and there was a water fountain on the wall--even the evil get thirsty. Still silent, we used our keycard to access the stairwell of the empty building, thankful for the cover of night.

We proceeded down the stairs, which were dimly lit but rather modern and clean. We came to the bottom of the stairs, swiped the card once more, and were let out into the first level of the basement.

We stood still for a moment, looking around the room. Like the first floor, it appeared to be just one room. In the center was a large group of computers. There was probably close to fifty different computers there, lined up about twenty five on one side, and the other twenty five against the back of the first row, facing the other direction. I guess they were there to accommodate large groups, for times when the Syndicate needed to pull up a great deal of files. At the head of these computers was a larger system, presumably the mainframe that we needed. At each computer was an office chair.

The floors were tiled, and all of the tabletops were a dark mahogany wood. The same catwalk ran around the building, about twenty feet from the ground. Lining the walls were massive filing cabinets, making up a system of everything that must have been in the computers. The computers were much more efficient, as there must have been millions, without exaggeration, of files there. We had no idea where to begin to look for the colonization date.

If we just gained computer access, the Gunmen could scan the files and find the details of colonization, not to mention my file, and evidence of crimes against humanity. If we could get evidence like that, we'd be set. By accessing it from their mainframe, we would eliminate encryption problems. The Gunmen had been unable to get around the security from the outside, but if they could link up to the open system from heir own computers, they'd be able to download information from the van. Not much good with computers beyond typing up reports and surfing the net, I just followed the plan.

"We're in," Mulder said, for the guys in the van.

"Nice work. Get us that password if you can."

Mulder sat at the desk of the main computer. I stood beside him, and he turned on the computer. It came to the login screen. In the space for member name, it read simply: NUMBERONE. The box for the password was empty. Quietly, Mulder lifted up the keyboard for the password. He pulled out a slip of yellow paper, which was folded in half.

When he unfolded it, both of our faces said the same thing: something is very, very wrong. The word was in Cyrillic... We said nothing, unable to even pronounce the foreign word, silently knowing we'd been set up. The informant, everything, all our planning... Before I could even open my mouth, the word was sounded out for us by the voice of a familiar native Russian speaker. Echoing from the catwalk above us, we heard Alex Krycek say, "Predatyelstvo."  
  
Before I could even turn around, let alone reach for my gun, a shot rang out. The last thing I thought before I hit the ground was that I'd never told Mulder I loved him. That's everything that I can remember, before darkness.

NOTES: I really must apologize for the delay. I said I'd have this up more quickly but then I was bombarded by real life stuff that is not as fun as fanfic lol. This baby is almost complete, so hold on just a little longer. Oh, and if any of you speak Russian and can figure out how to get "predatyelstvo" into Cyrillic and then translate it, I will be mighty impressed. But you will find out soon enough (hopefully within hours/one day or so of reading this chapter)...so don't give up! Thanks to all of your for amazing support and feedback.

And if you're a US citizen who is eligible to vote, please do so tomorrow!

Okay I'm done ranting lol...but I would loooove some reviews! :-P


	17. Chapter Sixteen

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Oh how we've shouted, how we've screamed. Take notice, take interest, take me with you. But all our fears fall on deaf ears... Tonight, they're burning the roads they built to lead us to the light, and blinding our hearts with their shining lies, while closing our caskets cold and tight, but I'm dying to live..."

--Dashboard Confessional, "Several Ways to Die Trying"

The smell of antiseptic. Stiff sheets, uncomfortable mattress, dry throat, bright lights... A hospital. I was in a hospital. I had an awful headache, and groaned low in my throat before opening my eyes. I found myself staring at Mulder, hovering over my bed. My head was swimming. What on earth was going on? What had happened? I remembered the computer...and then the password. Oh, god, Krycek...

"Scully, God it's good to see you open your eyes," Mulder said. I realized he had been holding my hand, and probably had been for quite some time.

"What happened, Mul'er?" I asked, my voice tired from the drugs.

"You were shot, in the stomach. Ripped right through the Kevlar...but if you weren't wearing it, we, uh, probably wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"Mm, was it a clean entry?" I asked clinically, going right into doctor-mode.

"Yeah, you're a lucky woman. You've amazed the doctors yet again with how well you're recovering. The bullet didn't shatter, and it didn't enter too far. The surgery could have been much worse, though you won't be doing much activity for a few days. Of course, with abdominal surgery, you could have been down for months..." he trailed off.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind--the infiltration, how did he get out?

"Mulder, what happened after I was shot?"

He took a deep breath and began. "I shot at Krycek. I hit him, and I'm fairly certain it wasn't a fatal, but it got him bad enough to send him crawling off somewhere. I was more concerned with trying to help you. Seeing you like that, Scully, it almost killed me. There was so much blood..." the pain was evident in his eyes while he paused to regain composure, "I tried to do what I'd seen you do when someone was shot, you know? Apply pressure or whatever, but I was so panicked. The Gunmen called for an ambulance. Some other guys came out, shot at me... I was lucky I guess. I got you out and didn't look back."

"And the files?" I asked.

"I went back after I knew you would be okay. Everything is gone. Vanished. Completely cleared out. The Syndicate planted some drugs and the entire thing is being reported by the FBI higher-ups as a drug bust with a following shoot-out. Skinner protested the cover-up but he's been overruled. His job is on the line, too, just like ours." He paused for a moment and said, "Nothing, we gained nothing, Scully. All of our careful planning. The danger we put ourselves in...and it was all a setup."

"Vanished? Everything?" I asked, shocked.

"Completely. It was all a set-up..."

"Krycek was the informant, then," I gathered.

"Yeah. I took the paper with the password written on it with me. It loosely translates into English as betrayal. Hell of a sense of humor on that crafty son of a bitch." There was a pause, and then he added, "I'm so sorry, Scully."

"Mulder, no--"

"I told you to trust me on it. You were worried, but I--I was so caught up in finding answers... I put you in danger, again. Over and over again, I just keep on hurting you. Maybe I never should have come to see you in California. You could have been happy."

"Stop it, Mulder, stop it right now," I hissed, "I am a grown woman and I make my own choices. I put myself in that warehouse. I left California to come with you on my own. I stayed on the X-Files for my own reasons--you never forced me to search for this truth. And you know what? With all the pain, with all I've lost, I don't think I would have changed a thing. Everything happens for a reason."

"You think that all that happened...everything I put you through--"

"You did not put me through anything. I put myself in every position I found myself in. You may have hurt me--that I won't deny. But you are not the reason for every bad thing that has ever happened to me, Mulder. I involved myself in this conspiracy."

"And all of that...there was a reason for all of this pain?"

"You and I are both here, aren't we?" I took his hand in mine. "Would we have found each other again if it wasn't for all of this? Everything that happened...especially this," I gestured to my bandaged abdomen, "taught me something. Opened my eyes to things I hadn't wanted to believe before."

"What things?"

I took a deep breath. Now or never, Dana Katherine... "I love you, Mulder. As many times as I told myself I shouldn't, because of what happened...I do. This opened my eyes. I almost never got the chance to tell you."

I said it. Finally, it slipped from my lips. It took a near death experience, but there it was, out in the open. I was ready to bear my heart to him. I was confident that he wouldn't break it for the first time in a long time. As blind as he was to the fact that I was not made of glass--not something he could protect--I was trusting that his eyes were open to see that what we had together was what both of us needed.

"Dana..." Oh, first name--my clue that he's going to say something tender. "I want you to know how hard I'm going to try to do this right. I promise that I'll try--but both of us know that I have a history of fucking these things up."

"Mulder, what happened between us...I told you once that I can't pretend it never happened, and I can't. It was an important part of my life. But, that doesn't mean that we have to think about it. My past will not control our present, or our future. It doesn't matter what you have a history of. We can't truly feel joy until we have felt pain."

"Well then, between the two of us, joy is going to feel pretty damn good," he smiled.

"Yeah, I think it will."

We were quiet for a moment, his hand in mine. We were starting out on a new journey, with a slate that was not quite clean. The scars along the way--whether they were from bullets, from the loss of loved ones, or from fights between lovers--punctuated our lives. They were reminders of the hard times we had faced. They marked the hope that those hard times would be equally matched by great times.

"What are we going to do about finding proof of the colonization date?" I asked quietly.

He sighed. "I'm not sure yet. There are other bases, other places to find the answers. I don't think it would be fair to stop looking. I want to find those files. I want answers...about what they've done to you, to Samantha, about what they're going to do in the future. About what they would kill innocent people to protect."

"I don't understand why didn't they kill us as soon as I got back here..."

"I don't know, although it's possible that they didn't know you were back. Of course, I'm sure they probably had someone in the FBI who knew. Most likely, Scully, I think it's all a big game to them. I think that both of us know that if they really wanted us dead, Smokey could have it done in an instant. They've done this in the past--other attempts on us. The bullet through my window, the bullet that killed your sister, your cancer... They keep dangling the truth in our face, and when we get close, they fire a few shots to keep us back. To frighten us. This time, I found the answers--but not the proof. This is colonization, Scully. We can't let it happen. If we can stop it, we have to. We were so close to finding everything... They led us on, sent us on this wild goose chase for answers, and then when we were about to hold them in our hands, they tried to kill us. Thank God Krycek isn't as great a shot as you are, Scully, because..."

"Don't think like that. So what do you suggest we do? Do you think we're in immediate danger?"

"No. Firstly, this whole event has discredited us. I guaranteed proof in that building, and there is none. Next time, we'll probably have to go about an infiltration without backup agents and possibly without Skinner. They know that. To be honest, Skinner still believes in us. He managed to talk the Director out of putting us before an OPR panel. Either way, the Syndicate know that as of right now, we are no threat to them. We have no leads, no idea where to begin looking again. They eliminated the problem without killing us and causing the delay of covering it up. Now, they figure that they've scared us away for a while, maybe forever this time...but I don't believe that they have. We can't give up now, we can't accept colonization. I guess in that way, they haven't succeeded."

"They haven't. Like I said, we can lay low a while, and then look into entering another facility, without the help of an informant. In the mean time, we can investigate some other X-Files..."

"So then you'll come back on the unit as my partner again?"

"Of course, Mulder. My life is in those files. My life is here with you now."

"I wouldn't want it anywhere else."

"Me either, Mulder. Me either."

"You should get some rest, Scully. Your mother went out to grab a bite to eat for lunch. She should be back soon, but try and sleep some more before she arrives. "

"Now that you mention it, the drugs have made me a bit groggy..."

"Close your eyes, Scully, I'll be here when you open them. Along with better days for both of us. Along with a new search for a greater truth."

All I wanted at the moment were better days with him. I wanted to jump into a relationship with him, and I wanted us to be close again. I wanted to learn things about him I never knew, and I wanted him to learn those things about me. We never got to have a relationship, we never got to be lovers... I wanted to go through those files in that old basement office. I wanted chase mutants and monsters and shadowy figures down dark alleys. I would be kidding myself if I said that my work was needed more anywhere else. If colonization was imminent, I needed to be working to stop it. Things would get better for us...even if after our defeat at the warehouse things looked grim. We wouldn't let a setback--even a major one--deter us.

We were ready to embark on another journey. At the time when things should have been looking down, they were looking up for us. We had found one another again, and although it was through pain, we hoped that it would bring us happiness. Dreams of the future filled my head...waking up in Mulder's arms, late nights in our office, arguing with him over expense accounts, making up with him after such arguments in the most enjoyable way possible, and finding the answers that we had sought for so long. I would wake up the next morning to begin a search for all of those things.

****

NOTES: As someone who is horribly impatient with other authors when they are writing fic, I must apologize for taking sooo long to post this. I have a million excuses but I won't bore you all with the madness that has been my life for the past month or so...or the fact that I'm a lazy bum. But on another note, the end of this fic is very near...so just hold on a little bit longer. Thanks soooo much for reading, everyone, reviews rock my world!


	18. Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Well, I don't care how many girls you've dated, you ain't lived till you've had your tires rotated by a red headed woman, a red headed woman, it takes a red headed woman to get a dirty job done."

--Bruce Springsteen, "Red Headed Woman"

When I left the hospital the next day, I was still barred from doing most activities. Though the saying 'doctors make the worst patients' is true, I did agree with my doctor that I should try and spend some time off my feet. Anyone who has had abdominal surgery knows that recovery is usually very painful. I was just happy to be home, since they wanted to keep me in the hospital another day. The kind of surgery I had to remove the bullet requires cutting around my abdominal muscles, very carefully moving or reattaching them to remove the bullet, while avoiding my organs. Luckily, it was a clean entry, though it didn't go straight through, as the Kevlar slowed it down. It's better that it didn't go through, because it would have taken a trip through one of my kidneys on the way.

Because using my abs hurt quite a bit, and jeopardized quick healing, I spent most of the time lying on my couch while Mulder played doctor/chef/housekeeper, all while being my basic source of amusement. We spent the time catching up with each other, talking about all the things we'd been afraid to discuss since we met about a decade ago.

We traded information about the little things... our first real kiss, (Mulder was quite amused by my story of kissing a neighbor in the woods during a game of late night manhunt with the all the kids on the block...Bill was on the opposing team, and came to look for us, and nearly ripped the poor kids head off.) the first time we went 'steady' with someone, our college years, our families, favorite musicians, favorite colors, favorite novels... Mulder kept unfolding, although some of his responses were not surprising. He loved the Doors and Hendrix, he couldn't really pick a favorite color because he couldn't differentiate some of them, and he related to the character of Holden Caulfield while he was growing up.

Mulder did a wonderful job helping me out while I was hurt, and he reveled in the idea of getting to take care of me. For his sake, I didn't grow too angry while he fawned over me. Besides, it's nice to have somebody fawn over me once in a while. I let him know, however, that when we were back in the field, I could take care of myself. I didn't need him to look out for me, and I was going to take the same risks I always had. He understood, of course, and it was nice to be able to live on both sides of the spectrum for once.

Soon enough I was back on my feet, and Mulder and I were back at work. We spent some time investigating the X-Files that had been piling up while I was away, but all the while we were looking for clues as to where we could find the colonization date without involving a third party. In between that searching, we went back to our old routine of finding plenty of the strange and unusual.

I remember the first X-File we investigated together after the infiltration attempt...we ended up chasing a bat boy--yes, a bat boy. We were in this tiny town, Hope Falls, and apparently we were late to the party...the bat boy was dead, and he took a few people with him. It's a long story about how it all went down in the tiny town, one that I was not inclined to believe. Anyway, I did a brief autopsy, and I couldn't deny there were some odd things about the body, but I wasn't about to accept that there was a bat-boy running around in this town for a month before we arrived. Before we could definitively run any tests, the body was stolen and cremated by his "mother," who was NOT a bat.

"Scully," Mulder had said, in that tone he gets when he's so sure he's correct, "you CAN'T deny the evidence."

"What evidence?" I demanded.

"THE EARS!"

"Mulder, pointy ears DO NOT make someone a bat!"

"Well if we would have had time to look at his DNA--"

"We didn't have time, Mulder! Without that, there is absolutely no proof that Edgar was anything more than a boy--no, I'm sorry, he was more than a boy--he was a murderer!"

"The entire town--"

"Have you SEEN the people in this town, Mulder?"

"I don't understand why you have to be so dismissive."

"Because there's no proof!"

"You're so damn frustrating I just want to scream, sometimes, Scully," his voice raising.

"So scream then!" I shouted back at him.

"FINE! I will!" And he did.

Tension filled the room for a short moment, but I felt a small smile burning inside of me. I tried to keep it hidden for a while, and I knew he was fighting the same battle. After a while, it slipped, and I felt the corners of my lips lift the slightest bit. His did the same, and we met one another's eyes for a moment.

"Our first fight since..." I whispered.

"Do you know what this proves?"

"That I'm a bat-girl?" I asked sarcastically.

"That we're okay. We're back to normal."

"Yeah," I whispered. "Yeah, we are."

To make a long story short, we never did end up agreeing on the whole bat-boy issue. It was a significant step for us to have what Mulder called an "old-school X-Files argument," though. It was somewhat of a signal to us that we had gone back to partners smoothly, without really changing anything. We were friends and lovers after work, and partners at work. The same partners who had once argued over garbage monsters and demonic possessions and UFO sightings. Now, we were adding bat-boys to the list. I had never been so pleased with an argument in my entire life, though I must admit I was more pleased with the making up that soon followed.

I kept my new apartment, and Mulder remained in good old number forty-two. We went into work and chased an assortment of freaks and monsters, and even plain old serial killers once in a while. I never thought those things would be what I considered normal, but for us, that was normal. We also quietly resumed the work of accumulating information regarding colonization. After work, we began to spend more and more time together, and our relationship got easier and easier.

At first there was some difficulty. Things were far from perfect, and both of us had expected that. I had some trust issues, but slowly they began to fade. He had fears that he wasn't worthy of having me back, and sometimes he was worried when I'd absently mindedly finger the ring around my neck that maybe Rob had been my "meant-to-be." Losing Rob continued to take its toll on me, and the guilt that I was responsible for his death still lingers with me… I suppose it always will. Sometimes I dream of him, of our home in the suburbs. But it always ends the same way, it never works. I know in my heart that it never could have. I know in my heart that where I belong is here, with Mulder.

Time heals all wounds, and our wounds did heal, but there were scars left behind. Scars that we sometimes found ourselves caught up in, trying to cover and forget them. We had fights, in the office, and out of the office. I often found myself biting my tongue in personal arguments, which usually started when I was being emotionally closed off, and I found myself about to yell something along the lines of "At least I never slept with you and then took it back," and sometimes I did say something like that. Then, he'd get even more upset, I'd feel awful and lose it and occasionally cry, he'd feel bad for making ME feel bad, and we had this whole big mess on our hands. I knew it was unfair to bring up his past, and I tried my best to never do that, but sometimes things are said in the heat of the moment. It always ended the same way: we'd talk it out, put our pride aside, and fix things.

There were serious fights, about things like trust and emotional honesty ("You're not the only one with feelings, Scully, and by hiding them you hurt mine!"); there were X-Files fights, about things like UFO clones ("Why must there ALWAYS be a reasonable explanation, Scully?!); there were little fights about the way Mulder couldn't squeeze a tube of toothpaste ("It's not my fault you're an anal-retentive neat-freak lunatic, Scully!"). And then, of course, there was making up after those fights. Lots and lots of making up. That alone, without the healthy value of arguments between lovers, was enough to make each and every fight worth it...although I maintain that I am NOT an anal-retentive neat-freak lunatic. He's just a slob.

For Labor Day weekend this year, Mulder and I took a big step in our relationship. We went to the beach. Up until then, the beach had still reminded me of the night that my life had changed. We created new memories as we spent the weekend on the beach and although I couldn't bring myself to take a late-night walk beneath the stars, we did walk along in the bright sun. We shared a kiss in front of the roaring sea, and afterwards, we exchanged a grin. I must admit that I did not miss late-night beach walks; I had a fine time in the hotel room with Mulder each night that long weekend.

Things were good. We kept searching for the more locations where the colonization date was housed, but we did not receive any further threats on our lives. We didn't question our good fortune, but we didn't take it for granted, either. We were careful, completely aware that the Syndicate was capable of quietly plotting anything. We worked diligently, because Mulder believed our future depended upon it. As for me, colonization was a real threat...not one I was totally sure of, but a frightening one nonetheless.

We shared all of the things I'd always wanted us to be able to share. There were lazy Sunday mornings, cool autumn evenings, quiet candlelit dinners, and secrets that at the start of our partnership we never would have imagined telling. Despite all of the pain, in the past and present, and the pain that was sure to come, we were happy. That pain had only increased our ability to appreciate joy. The simplest things mattered the most to us. We took our lives into our own hands, instead of letting the past guide our way. We took back the painful memories and made them joyous, like we had done that Labor Day weekend on the beach. We were moving on.

Thinking about the beach doesn't hurt me anymore.


	19. Epilogue

EPILOGUE 

"This is the end. This story's old, but it goes on and on, until we disappear."

--Brand New, "Play Crack the Sky"

It's been a year since the day of the failed infiltration, a year since my most recent brush with death in the form of a gunshot to the gut. A year of healing, or reopening wounds, and sewing them back up again. A year living in desperate fear that the wounds would be infected, and never heal. But they had begun to heal, leaving faint scars across my life. Each wound, a bullet here, a scratch there, marking another moment, another split second. Another chance to recover.

In the last year, we have made progress. Progress in every aspect of our life, yes, but the pressing issue of the moment is progress in our fight against colonization. Over the past year, we've been tracking the members of the Consortium with the help of the Gunmen. After the fight between the alien rebels and the alien colonists put a supposed end to the project, the group of men included in the plans dwindled. Many were killed in the hangar that night, but new men soon took their place. Smokey is still around, and as long as he was, the work seemed to continue.

Krycek is alive, that we know, but underground somewhere. We've been unable to find him, though Mulder is dying to get his hands on the little rat. We have researched army bases, finding that the colonization date was kept only at maximum security facilities after it was found that Mulder had accessed them. They had covered their tracks impeccably, and it took us quite some time to locate another facility housing the base.

Mulder and I finally found a compound where we could find the date and the information, Mount Weather. It is nearby in Virginia, but security is extremely tight. It would take a meticulously planned infiltration, one without the help of the Bureau, to access what we needed. It was one thing to get backing from Skinner on getting inside a warehouse, but something else entirely when it related to the United States Military. Skinner was willing to believe our government was in on it, but we couldn't expect the man to back us on it, surely he'd lose his job if he did.

Our work is painstaking. Carefully and slowly we accumulated information from a variety of sources. The Gunmen set us up with keycards. Mulder had a meeting with an informant, whom we checked on before trusting. Our new policy was to make sure we had something to hold over the heads of those who gave us information, so that they couldn't betray us. We got a large portion of our intelligence from General stationed at the base, disturbed with the information and willing to work alongside us. After all, some people just can't stomach the idea that they have to willingly hide imminent destruction from the public for a living. In this way, along with other methods, we've gained access codes, blueprints, and tidbits of information that helped us along.

And here we are, planning to infiltrate in a few months. It's hard to believe it's been a year since Mulder and I got back together again. Looking back, though, the year has been more than just work. We've put more than just our crusade back together; we've put our lives back together. Today has been less difficult for me than I imagined it would be. Mulder is here for me, and Rob is in a better place. And I'm okay, for the first time in a long time. I'm with somebody I love, doing what I know is right. It's a sense of relief I haven't felt much in my life, but I've probably felt it more this past year than ever before.

We've adjusted nicely to being both lovers and partners, but there were some bumps in the road. I can remember more than one argument in our dark basement office, as we worked later than any two people should ever have to. I can remember talking out those arguments in a healthy way, and I can remember solving other arguments in an angry kiss, followed by a solution that was probably less healthy emotionally, but more fun physically. And in the end, whether it is in the office or in the privacy of our bedrooms, we always realize that the only way we can ever solve anything is to put aside our pride for a moment and talk about it. Of course, I suppose some things still go unsolved. Between the two of us, pride and ego is a big issue, but we both manage to suppress the urge to always be right once in a while.

There were perfect moments, too. We spent Christmas together, as this year it was at my Mom's in Baltimore. I don't think Mulder would have agreed to stay out in San Diego with Bill, but he did manage to put up with him for a little while at my Mom's for Christmas Eve dinner. We drove home and spent the morning together, opening gifts and sipping hot chocolate like regular people. We drank champagne on New Years. We went out to fancy restaurants, but still preferred little places that reminded us of Casey's. We spent lazy Sunday mornings reading the New York Times in bed. We spent a year making up for a decade of lost time.

And today, I have realized that I truly have moved on. Despite everything that has happened to me from the moment I walked into the basement office all those years ago, I have managed to recover. Mulder and I are okay. We're planning a new infiltration. We're living what is in some ways a new life and in some other ways our old life. We've begun to work the kinks out, and I'm sure there will always be problems. But now, with him here beside me, things are okay. Things are better than okay.

I never thought I could really forgive him. I never thought that things would be like this again, but here I am. Here I am on Mulder's couch, having just eaten a big dinner of take-out, sipping a glass of wine. Remembering a year in my life, and all of the years before it. Realizing that I'm happy. I'm myself again, the person I haven't been in so long. I don't have the perfect life, but I have the life that I know how to live. I have the life I'm happy with. I have a life with the man I love, doing the right thing, no matter how difficult that may get.

I've been many places in my life. I've lived all over this country at one time or another. I've called so many places home that I've lost count. Childhood homes in San Diego, college dorms in Maryland, Army bases all over the world, and apartments in Georgetown. Being here on Mulder's couch, as he sits down beside me to settle in for a movie, just feels right. Getting ready to find out what they kept us from finding last year feels right. Working on the X-Files, running across monsters and mutants, feels right.

I find Mulder catching my pensive gaze, and I see worry come to his eyes. He asks quietly what I'm thinking. And I turn to Mulder and say something that I never thought I'd be able to say after one night on an empty beach.

"I'm thinking," I pause a moment, "I'm thinking that we're going to make it. I'm thinking that our work is going to survive…that WE are going to survive. I'm thinking that I'm happy for the first time in a long time."

"I'm thinking the same thing," he says quietly.

We share a kiss, getting ready to keep fighting, together.

.end.

FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTES: Wow! I started posting this story ages ago, and I started writing it ages before that! And now I can say that it is FINALLY posted in its entirety. There are several people I have to thank for that. First and foremost, Agent Balinski, relentless proof-reader who works in exchange for early pieces of fanfic and any interesting gossip. Thanks for pushing and pestering me to write, and for being such a fabulous friend.

To Tefla, for her beta work, for reading, for being a fan, and for being a friend.

And yes, to everyone who read this. Because let's be honest—if you didn't tell me what you thought, I'd never bother to post and I'd never improve. I'm a whore for feedback and you guys kept me turning tricks! :-D I must especially thank those who reviewed each and every chapter—thank you for guilting me into posting new chapters. I'm sorry I kept you all waiting so long, because I know how impatient I can get when I'm into a fic. Thank you for sticking around, for reading, and especially for your feedback. It's good to know the fandom isn't dying.

Now that I've thanked you all, I can say that I am working on more new stuff. I have the beginnings/middles/ends/drafts of some short pieces that you should look out for in the next month or so. Also, I'm working on a longer casefile where Mulder and Scully hunt for a serial killer on the Jersey Shore. I'm very excited because it's the first story I've written that doesn't really center on MSR, but rather on a case. Although there is some lovely UST, and maybe I'll throw in a kiss… grin

So thanks for sticking around. I hope you had fun, I know I did.

To send feedback, criticism, conversation, help, advice, or birthday presents ;-D, e-mail me at 

You guys rock!

THE END!


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